Tidings of Comfort and Joy
by N3GatorFan
Summary: Going caroling is something neither Henry nor Jo has considered before, but they find themselves doing just that one Christmas. When he makes a romantic move on her as a ruse one evening after practice, his action threatens their desire to keep their relationship platonic. Will they take a chance on love, or will they keep things as they are? Set 1 1/2 years after 1x22.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**_: The concept, canon, and canon characters belong to _Forever_ creator Matt Miller and Warner Bros. Studios. All other characters, the plot for the story, and Henry's flashbacks are my own creation. I have posted my story here, and I don't profit from it. (Translation: I don't own _Forever_, but if I did, we'll have at least one holiday-themed episode in which Adam isn't a Grinch.)

**Author's Note**: This story is inspired by a tweet from ForeverCloisJenry to me about Mike and Lucas setting Henry and Jo up for a round of singing together. My apologies to her for any similarities between several chapters in "Nouveau Depart" and this story. I had no intention to copy any elements from it.

I hope that you will enjoy the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

"…_So fairly to be seen._

_Love and joy come to you_

_And to you a Wassail too__…._

Jo closed the program on her computer and swiveled toward Mike. Whistling, he stapled his report, inserted it into a folder, and slid it in his lower desk drawer.

"…_bless the master of this house_

_And then the mistress too_

_And all the little children_

_That round the table grew__…."_

She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head as he ignored a pair of their fellow detectives pass between them. He had been miserable for two entire weeks before and during Thanksgiving. What had gotten into him? Based on what she had heard him telling Bert Darnell at the bullpen's coffee pot, it certainly wasn't some alone time with Karen.

"Glad the in-laws left New York last night?"

He gazed ahead for a moment before twisting his chair around to her. "I've already forgotten about them, and good riddance. The boys enjoyed their grandparents' visit from Arizona, but Karen and I thought that their week-long stay would _never_ end. I don't know how much longer it would've been before I finally snapped at them."

Jo nodded slowly. Karen's parents had always hated Mike's blue-collar roots. From what he had told her, they almost ruined their daughter's wedding with their complaints about the quality of Mike's contributions to the ceremony. The only thing that had halfway salvaged Karen's parents' relationship with their son-in-law was the births of their grandsons.

"Then why are you singing? We don't have a karaoke night planned any time soon." Then again, they hadn't had a team karaoke night in weeks. It was about time for another one.

He arched his right eyebrow. "You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

He grinned at her. "Sgt. Lior from white collar crimes is hosting a Christmas caroling party at her place near Second and First in December. Whoever is interested is supposed to report there Wednesday evening."

Jo returned his grin with a smile of her own. "You want to prove your vocal prowess to everyone but us."

"I resent that." He squared his shoulders. "You know I used to sing…"

She waved her hand between them. "I know, I know. You and The Crainiacs used to play at The Trash Bar and several other bars before you joined the NYPD." She smirked at him. "Remember, I've heard all your stories." She crossed her arms and leaned on the corner of the desk. "Are you doing this to get out of paperwork for a few weeks?"

"Are you thinking about going?" He trained his gaze on her. "I don't see why not. You sang before."

"Mike!" As she hissed his name, heat surged from her chest to every part of her body. She lunged toward him as far as the desk would allow her. "I haven't done that since grade school." At least not in public. "In fact, I'm not that good—."

He ignored her glare. "When you were a kid, you were good enough to land the part of Eliza Doolittle. Your voice shouldn't have changed much since then. Even if you're a bit rusty, it would take a lot for people to cringe at your singing."

Settling back in her seat, she stared him down. Right now, she could kill Henry—twice—for sharing that piece of information with Mike and the pair of colleagues accompanying them to one of their scenes two years ago. She had disclosed that tidbit after the three other men had asked her what Henry had meant by her "musical theater days" and _My Fair Lady_. She was sure that everyone but Henry had forgotten about it. But now, Mike insisted on letting everyone in the precinct know about her ability.

Mike waited for her reply. She squirmed in her chair, and her eyes landed on a spot on the corner of the desk. The past year and a half had brought a tremendous amount of upheaval in her life, and things were finally starting to get back to normal. Maybe she could do something fun to take her mind off of everything.

Jo huffed and met his eyes. "I'll think about it." She held his gaze. "No guarantees."

He grinned. "It'll be fun having you in the group." Matching her posture, he peeked at the hallway leading to the elevators. "Maybe we can get Doc and Lucas to join us."

She muttered, "Maybe." If it were open to the OCME as well, Lucas would jump at the chance. Henry, on the other hand….

Jo swallowed. He had spent the past two and a half weeks nursing his broken heart following his breakup with his girlfriend, Erica Livingstone. She wasn't sure if he would feel like doing something with them right now.

Then again, even if he wanted to forget about his fellow immortal for a little bit, he wouldn't think of going caroling. As far as Jo knew, Henry had never done it before. Given his slowness in keeping up with the times, it might take him another century before he went on his first one.

Mike gave her a curious look before turning back to his desk. _"Here we come a-wassailing among—."_

"Please don't sing that song in my presence."

Jo looked up at Henry in time to see a scowl cross his face. He cradled a manila folder in his hands.

She looked over at Mike. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. "Why not, Doc?"

Noticing Jo, Henry met her eyes. His expression softened. "I suspect that the beverage in question might have had something to do with my conception."

Mike arched his eyebrow again. "Really?" He smirked. "Your parents got drunk before, well, you know?"

Jo gaped at her official partner. Were Henry's mannerisms rubbing off on Mike? In the past, he could say it in her presence without batting an eye. What gave now?

"My…" Henry's Adam's apple bobbed as he bowed his head and let his eyes dart across the floor. "My dad wasn't an affectionate person." He met Mike's eyes again. "I rarely saw him express his love for my mom or for me. The few times that he had, it was more verbal in nature. I have difficulty imagining him kissing my mom, let alone being more physically intimate with her, without some kind of assistance."

Her heart breaking, Jo found a spot just beyond Henry and hoped Mike didn't notice her reaction. Henry's upbringing—including a natural tendency to call his parents "Mother" and "Father"—was the product of an era relegated to the history books. A time which Henry refused to share with Mike given her official partner's skepticism about the supernatural. If only Mike could suspend his disbelief long enough for them to tell him the truth about their ME, maybe things would be different.

Mike unfolded himself, scooted toward his desk, and folded his hands over its surface. "He sounds like my old man. He gave Anthony and me as little affection as possible growing up. It was too girly for him." He scoffed. "I don't think I ever heard him say that he was proud of me as an adult, come to think about it…."

Henry turned to Jo. She gave him a small smile and a slight nod to let him know he could talk to her about this later. He returned her expression with a slight lopsided smile of his own.

A hum escaped from Mike's throat. His eyes widening ever so slightly, Henry twisted his head toward the other detective. He studied Mike for a moment before looking around the bullpen.

When his attention returned to the pair of investigators, his lips quirked into a small smile. "Are you rehearsing for Sgt. Lior's Christmas party?"

"I—." Mike's right eyebrow rose faster than the rest of his words could leave his mouth. "How do you know about that?"

Jo shifted in her seat, leaned forward, and rested her chest on her crossed arms. _This should be interesting_.

Henry ran his hand over his hair. "I overheard a couple of my fellow medical examiners discussing their participation in her party while I was on my way up here. Apparently, she had come to the OCME and invited us to join in the festivities." He chuckled. "As far as I know, Lucas hasn't heard about it yet. Something tells me that he will be there once word reaches him."

"What about you, Doc?" Mike's voice shot through Jo before she could speak. "I've wanted to see you on stage during our karaoke nights since the first time I heard you hum. If you're any good at singing—" He maintained his gaze on Henry. "—and I'm not saying you aren't—this could be right up your alley."

Jo opened her mouth to warn Mike to not pressure Henry into making a decision. Henry's unusual silence, though, forced her to look up at him. Her jaw fell open at his narrowed eyes which peered through Mike instead of focusing on him. He rolled his tongue in his mouth as his lips parted.

A glint of light then shined in Henry's eyes. "I think I will take you up on the offer." He huffed. "It'll be good to forget about my worries for a little while. Anyway, I haven't been since Ch…."

His pupils expanded, and his jaw slackened. Jo swallowed. If Mike caught that….

Henry shifted his gaze away from Mike, moved his folder to his other hand, and inserted his free hand into the pocket where he carried his watch. A moment later, he turned to Jo and smiled. "Are you going also, Detective?"

Jo's cheeks warmed at his nickname for her. "I, um, I…."

Her eyes danced in his brown ones. She had nothing better to do during her spare time. Besides, someone needed to prevent Henry and Lucas from blurting out Henry's secret to everyone in the room.

She turned to Mike and then back to Henry. She huffed. How did he always managed to talk her into doing things like this?

"Okay. You've talked me into it. I'm going."

A splash of light beige entered her vision. She nodded toward it. "So, what did you bring us?"

Henry startled for a moment, peeked back at the folder, and extended it toward her. "Boris Farley's death certificate. Toxicology took longer than I had planned, perhaps because I had somehow managed to offend someone in the department. The results, however, confirmed what I've—." He glanced over at Mike. "—suspected."

Jo took the folder from him and opened it. Her eyes landed on his findings. She pulled her lips together. How was she going to explain this to internal affairs if they ever examined her cases? She and Abe were nervous about, but overall okay with, Henry injecting himself with Boris' blood to determine which poison had been used in his death. IA, however, would never understand how Henry's sixth sense of death led to his impatience for toxicology's results.

She closed the file and slipped it into her lower desk drawer. Expecting to hear Henry and Mike's conversation, she twisted toward them. Mike sat at his desk, giving Henry a worried look. Henry, in the meantime, stared into space, his forehead furrowed and the corners of his lips turned down.

Sensing he needed to talk, she pushed herself out of her seat. "Henry."

He blinked rapidly and slowly turned to her. "What?"

"You're coming?"

He opened and closed his mouth. "I—."

She stepped behind him and to his right, took his elbow, and directed him toward the bullpen's entrance. "Looks like you need some coffee." She pivoted back to Mike. "If Lieu asks where I'm at, I'm in the break room."

Mike smirked. "I'll let her know you talked Doc into taking a rare break."

Jo squeezed Henry's upper arm and nudged him away from her official partner. She grinned as Henry moved with her. She had no idea how or why, but his body always seemed to readily obey her silent orders whenever she touched him.

Once away from the bullpen, she joined his side. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and kept his eyes on the ground. She pulled her lips together. She hated seeing him like this. She wished that she could take away whatever pain he was experiencing now.

"Your father, huh?"

Henry pulled his lips together, and his Adam's apple bobbed. "Less about my father and more about myself." He blew some air out of his cheeks. "I sometimes wish I didn't have to hide my condition like I do. Life would be far easier if more people knew about it…."

Memories of Henry's relationship with Erica downed out the rest of his words. Jo shoved them back. Sure, once she had discovered Erica's secret through an arrest for indecent exposure, the woman who was old enough to be Jo's great-great-great-grandmother had been an excellent friend and confidante, and Jo was missing her as well. But, there was something about the woman who stole Henry's heart for almost a year which had made Jo clench her jaw for a moment every time she had seen the pair together.

Jo bit back a growing laugh. She had no idea why they broke up or whose decision it was to end their relationship. Maybe it would explain why Henry was taking it so hard.

She peeked at the floor. That was a pair of mysteries which she would have to leave alone for the time being. It took Henry seven months to confirm what she had suspected since she had first seen the scar on his chest. If he wanted to talk about his current heartbreak, he would come to her when he was ready.

He laid eyes on her. She smiled at him. "When was the last time you went caroling? You've never said a word about it until now."

"A long time ago. Back when…."

A pair of unis strolled by them, escorting a suspect to one of the interrogation rooms. Henry peered over his shoulder and nodded to her colleagues. Jo's eyes and mouth widened.

She mouthed, "Dickens' time?"

Henry nodded. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and gave her a lopsided smile. "Shortly after my return to England from…." Noting another pair of detectives, he smiled and dipped his head at them. "Several doctors and nurses at the hospital where I worked at at the time were infatuated with his novella, and it inspired them to hold a caroling party. They begged me to join them. I was reluctant to go, so they used an emergency call to trick me into accompanying them. The entire time, I was terrified that, well, you know."

She leaned her head back. She could imagine that much.

His eyes roamed her face. "What about you? You haven't sung since your youth."

She considered shooting him a dirty look but decided against it. "I don't like showing it off, but I still sing a bit when I'm alone. Mostly, at this time of year."

"Nothing like the music to get you in the holiday spirit?" He grinned at her.

"You could say that." Even during her rough times, the music almost always lifted her spirits. The only two occasions when it hadn't were after her father's arrest and trial and after Sean's death.

"I can't blame you." His voice wrapped itself around her like a warm blanket. "Somehow, this time of year tend to make most people more cheerful and peaceful."

Henry slowed down just before Jo did. As they neared the break room door, he stepped back to let her in. She smiled as she headed over to the coffee pot and poured them two cups of its contents. Maybe going caroling wouldn't be so bad after all. Who knew? Maybe she would enjoy herself.

* * *

What on Earth was he even thinking?!

Henry picked at the pierogies that Abe had prepared for dinner that evening. Ever since his youth, he had always chosen to occupy his time with a small group of close friends. But being around an untold number of people for a particular length of time? He would rather attend one of his father's tiresome dinner parties again than to face the crowd in the present.

"Hey, Pops." Abe's voice sliced through Henry's thoughts. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not very hungry." He speared a pierogi and nibbled a corner. Truthfully, Abe's choices in filling tantalized the older man's tongue and tempted him to shove his thoughts aside until the dish was finished. He, however, felt as though he would barely make it through the morsel on his fork.

Abe lowered his own utensil, pushed his plate aside, crossed his arms, and rested them on the table. "It's not like you to be this quiet. Judging from your appearance and energy, you're not ill or slowly dying from another poison. You're clearly not thinking about Mom or how she died. And you haven't received a message or a call from Adam for several months now."

"Abe…."

Henry set his fork on his plate. A wave of cold air lifted the hairs on his arms as though he was in the East River again. When had his son learned how to accurately read a person's subtle body cues? And how did he know his father's so well? "I would rather not talk about it."

"Is it about Erica?"

"It most certainly is not." When he had joined Jo in the precinct's break room, he had briefly mentioned his and Erica's relationship and the ease which he could discuss his worries with his fellow immortal. Yet, Jo's gentle, unspoken reminder of her own knowledge and acceptance of his condition had put his mind at ease for the remainder of the day. That was, until Lucas had informed him of his acceptance of Sgt. Lior's invitation while the two men were finishing their final autopsy for the day.

"It's been two and a half weeks…."

"I was with her for a year." And he felt that his emotions still hadn't untangled themselves from his memories of her.

Abe met Henry's eyes. "I'm just saying that, since you two ended the relationship amicably, maybe you should consider moving on. Erica comes across as the type who wouldn't want you to be unhappy forever."

_**Abe**__**'s Antiques, New York City, Two and a Half Weeks Earlier**_

"_You want to stay here because of Jo?"_

_Erica__'s eyes pleaded with him to tell her the truth. Henry sighed and buried his hands in his pockets. His right one found his watch, and his fingers caressed the cold, smooth metal._

_He gulped. The last two times that he had been in this situation, he and Jo__—mostly Jo—had argued about her ability to continue their friendship and their professional partnership because of the lies which were necessary to conceal his condition from the world. If they hadn__'t worked on understanding each other…._

"I deserve the truth."

_He broke his gaze and studied the space between them. Like Jo had then, Erica deserved the truth now._

_He peered over her shoulder at the light rain streaming down the window panes. There had never been an easy way to admit what he was feeling. He had struggled to keep his emotions in check while he had ended his relationship with Molly Dawes before the seeds of love had sprung up. Now would be no different._

_Henry summoned his courage and met Erica__'s gaze. He drew in a deep breath. She might feel betrayed by his heart, but, at least this time, the full truth would be known to both parties._

"_Not exactly." He swallowed back his tears. He didn't understand why, but, this time, the idea of leaving New York pained him more than he had assumed._

"_Then what?"_

"_I—." He inhaled again and gathered his thoughts. "Since my return to the city twenty years ago, I had built a life here. And, yes, that life now includes my friendship with Jo." His eyes roamed the golden specks in Erica's eyes. He drew his strength from them. "I, however, don't want to lose what I had built. If I were to flee with you…."_

_Henry inwardly cursed Erica__'s former beau. If the cad wasn't intent to expose Erica's condition to the world through a YouTube video—whatever that was—of her most recent death, she would have been free to continue her own life in New York beside the man who loved her. Now…._

_Erica bowed her head and bounced it several times. Henry__'s heart sank within him. She had opened up his world more than he had imagined. Abigail had begun to bring his former nature back from the dead, but Adam's contribution to her death had killed his soul as readily as Nora and the asylums had centuries ago. Erica, though, had fully awakened his true self, and, for that, he would always be grateful._

"_Erica, don't get me wrong. I still love you, and a part of me always will. It's just…."_

_She stepped closer to him. __"So, this is it?" She offered him a small smile. "Perhaps we can try again in another five hundred years, provided that we still don't have families by then."_

_He wrinkled his eyebrows. He hadn__'t considered that before._

_Erica wove her way around the coffee table and laid her hand against his cheek. Henry closed his eyes and soaked in her warmth and her touch one final time._

_When he opened them, he found Erica gazing at him. __"You've found yourself a good woman in Jo. Whatever you do, do not lose her."_

"_Let her know that I will miss her as well." She huffed. "Too bad she wasn't immortal also. The world always need more women like her."_

_Erica leaned over and kissed him before strolling through the French doors separating the living room and kitchen. As Henry watched her pluck her purse off the island, take the handle of her suitcase, and walk out of the apartment without looking back, tears soaked the corners of his eyes. He wiped them away. He didn__'t want to wait five hundred years. He would rather be with her now._

"You've found yourself a good woman in Jo…."

_His eyes darted to the side. He furrowed his forehead. Whatever had possessed Erica to say that? He had assumed he had made it abundantly clear that he and Jo were merely friends. Why would she believe otherwise?_

_**Abe**__**'s Antiques, New York City, November 28, 2016**_

Henry peered down at his plate, but the food wasn't in focus. He stuck his fork in an empty space between several dumplings. Perhaps he should have made other arrangements for him and Erica during karaoke night or their nights out at McSorley's. Perhaps she wouldn't have gotten the impression that his heart wasn't entirely hers. Perhaps he wouldn't feel as though he had betrayed her in one of the worst possible ways.

He glanced back at Abe, who had dove back into his meal. His son was right, though. When they would eventually reunite, Erica would be displeased to learn that he hadn't sought out another chance at love and happiness with someone else. Maybe he should reconsider his position on the matter.

The smell of the pierogies grew very faint. Realizing his meal was growing cold, he reluctantly plunged his fork into a pierogie and began to move it toward his mouth.

"You still haven't told me what is wrong."

Henry lowered the fork onto his plate, huffed, and took a sip of his wine. Abe wasn't going to leave the matter alone any time soon.

He set the glass down, picked up his pierogi again, and locked eyes with Abe. Perhaps he should unburden himself of this. Dwelling on it all night wouldn't help him any.

He ate his morsel, and, for once during the meal, he savored the filling's flavor. Abe had really outdone himself this time.

He peered at his son and summoned his courage. "I had somehow agreed to participate in a caroling party."

Abe's eyes lit up. 'And?"

Henry broke his gaze for a moment. "I should have declined the invitation. Although I'm becoming more accustomed to being out and about in public for longer periods of time than I had when your mother was alive, I don't think I can do it now."

Abe found his wine and drank it. "Why not?"

Henry leveled a look at his son before taking a dumpling from the edge of the plate. "Not everyone is as accepting of immortality as the seven of us who know or have known it exists. I cannot predict who might be in the audience or their intent if and when they surmise the truth about me. I…." His voice broke, and he swallowed back tears. "If someone found out, then I would be taken away from everyone I care about for who knows how long, and I don't want that to ever happen."

"Then, if you're worried about it, why did you decide to go?"

Henry thought it over for a moment. He blew a huge puff of air out of his nose. "I want to forget my guilt of my role in my and Erica's breakup. I want to forget that I momentarily considered abandoning the people I care about for the sake of love. I want to do something with Jo, Lucas, and Hanson outside of our usual activities. I…."

He lowered his gaze. "I figured that, if Jo was going, maybe we can spend some time together afterward and talk. I've enjoyed our conversations to and from scenes, the few minutes that we had to ourselves when she comes to the morgue or I had gone upstairs, our meals together before I started dating Erica, and the few times we have talked during our group nights out. Yet, they always seemed to be too short for my personal liking. I…." He picked up his wine and tasted it.

Abe's eyes danced. "So, Jo talked you into it?"

Henry spat out his wine. He hastily replaced his wine glass, yanked his napkin off his lap, and dabbed his lips. As he laid the napkin back in his lap, he glared at the younger Morgan.

"She most certainly did not. I decided to go before she said anything about her acceptance of Sgt. Lior's invitation. In fact, for a couple of moments, I had feared that she would have refused to go." To his relief, she had quickly agreed.

Abe's question rolled in the immortal's mind and mingled with Erica's. Henry studied his son. 'Why do you believe that Jo had been the one to convince me to attend Sgt. Lior's party?"

Abe trained his gaze on him. "Because she always does. You wouldn't have considered splitting your time between the OCME and the NYPD if she wasn't the lead investigator in the train crash which killed you and fifteen others. You wouldn't have started going to McSorley's or out to karaoke bars with the rest of the gang if you didn't want to hang out with her. You—."

"Abraham." Henry's cheeks warmed. "You are not suggesting that I might be more interested in Jo than as a friend and a professional partner."

"I'm not saying that you have a thing for her, but it seems that she has more of an effect on you than almost any other woman outside of Mom."

Henry's eyes widened. "What about Erica?"

"Oh, she had. Even I have noticed you coming out of your shell over the past year, and I'm surprised to see you doing some things that you've said you hadn't done since your mortal life. But it's nothing like the way you act every time you're around Jo."

"Name one instance where that is the case."

Abe met Henry's eyes. "You wouldn't have stayed in New York if, at least on a subconscious level, you didn't feel that there may be more to your and Jo's relationship than just a friendship."

"I…."

He huffed as Abe defiantly stared at him. He did not see a way to argue himself out of this one.

Henry turned back to his plate and decided to finish his meal. His mind flipped through the pages of his memory. He grimaced. Abe was right in one respect. Jo had easily convinced him to reconsider his position on many things since the moment that she had walked into his autopsy room for the first time. If it weren't for her, he would have never summoned the courage to do things outside of work again. He would have never found himself making friends and becoming part of a group again. Nor would he have never opened himself to the idea of starting over after Abigail's disappearance and death.

He grimaced and hoped Abe didn't notice. Besides, even if he had a thing for Jo, he wasn't ready for another romantic relationship just yet. If he pursued one with her now, he might not give his whole heart to her, and he would hurt her if they were to break up. She deserved better than that.

"What time is the party?"

Henry snapped his head up and looked at Abe. "We're supposed to be at Sgt. Lior's apartment in the East Village Wednesday evening. As she is the second in command of the white collar crimes division, I suspect that several of her detectives will be there. Of the other divisions…."

"How about Hanson and Lucas?" Abe finished off the last of his pierogies and wiped his mouth.

"They'll both be there." He cringed at the words on his tongue. "As well as Dr. Washington, two more medical examiners, and a couple of assistants."

"Oh, great." Abe rolled his eyes. "You have to deal with that jerk who thinks he's better than you."

"Abra—."

"What?" Abe stared down his father. "Unlike you, I'm entitled to give my opinion of Dr. Washington." He then smiled. "Maybe your group of friends can keep him away from you until after the party is over."

Henry studied Abe for a moment and then smiled. "That would be a relief. He _is_ rather unbearable to work with."

Henry plucked another pierogi off his plate and enjoyed the bite. He smiled as Abe's words turned over in his mind. Perhaps he had made the right decision after all. He had always enjoyed his time with his friends at the Diogenes Club and with his friends in the present day. Perhaps, even with the risks he would be taking, he would performing in front of people for the first time in centuries.

And if he had the opportunity to spend some time with Jo, it would be wonderful.

* * *

**Author's Note: **All songs quoted in the story are in the public domain (at least in the United States). If I include any copyrighted songs, I'll either give a short summary or mention the title.

The changes in Jo's life and whether Lt. Reece knows about Henry will be mentioned in the next chapters. I think you will be pleased with one of the changes. I'm taking Mike's use of the past tense when talking about his father from the scene where the team discovers the taxi Henry's in at the end of "The Man in the Killer Suit" and the beginning of "Skinny Dipper". For story purposes, Mike and Anthony had buried their father a few years before the Pilot. Lucas learns that Henry is immortal a year and three months before this story starts. How he finds out it is not relevant to the story, but, let's just say his fascination with the horror and sci-fi genres leads to his discovery. And, no, Adam will not be a part of this story.

The information on the revival of Christmas traditions in the Victorian era comes from "A Christmas Carol" on Wikipedia.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Hi! Two apologies. First, I know this is posted late. Dad went into surgery earlier this month. The surgery went well, but I have been dealing with it and his recovery. I will post another chapter later this week to try to catch up to where I want to be story-wise.

The other is to the Jenry shippers. If you read my other stories, you know I ship them myself. When I do write Henry or Jo having another romantic relationship outside of Jenry, I try to start the story as close to the end of that relationship as possible to show how it brings Henry and Jo together. (If you've noticed, I don't even cover much of their relationships with Molly Dawes and Isaac Monroe.) I hope this chapter will give you more insight into Henry's decision to break up with Erica...and maybe a bit of why he fell for her to start with.

Anyway, this story is really about Henry and Jo. I hope that you will enjoy this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Jo paced in front of her apartment building. Henry had promised her that he would arrive at her place by six-thirty, and, so far, he hadn't shown up. Unless something had happened to him en route, he was rarely late.

She swallowed. What if he had chickened out on her at the last minute? Over the past two and a half years, he had frequently joined her, Mike, and Lucas for drinks or karaoke night, even while dating. Still, that was with friends. This was different. He would be required to be in front of groups of people, something that he had tried to avoid at all costs. What if he realized what he was doing and decided not to go? What would she do then?

"Martinez." She muttered. "When you dropped him off at the elevators at work this morning, Henry told you that he will be here. Don't worry about it. Think of something else."

She stopped, peered up the side of her building, and, with her lips parting, shook her head. She still could not believe that she was now living on the Lower East Side. When she had moved into her Washington Heights townhouse with Sean, she had assumed that she would remain there for the rest of her life. She had never imagined that revisiting his death four months ago would bring her here.

She whipped out her cell phone and checked the time. Sliding the device back into her pocket, she pirouetted toward the shop, which was blocked by a semi-truck turning onto Stanton. He had two minutes left. Maybe she should head down to the shop and see what was going on. If Henry had chickened out, maybe she could persuade him into coming with her.

Henry suddenly emerged through several bar-goers heading toward Suffolk. Jo's eyes traveled from the top of his curly brown hair down to the red scarf elegantly draped around his neck and the ends neatly tucked into his coat. The chilly air warmed around her, coaxing her lips into a smile and draining the tension away from her body. He had to be one of the most handsome men she had ever known.

"Detective." He gave her a lopsided grin as he hurried toward her. "How are you doing this evening?"

She brushed back a strand of hair. "Pretty good. How was work?"

He joined her side, his hands in his coat pockets. "A little rough. We, um…." He swallowed. "We received several patients from the nursing homes and hospices…." His voice wavered and faded. He broke his gaze and lowered his eyes.

She reached over and rubbed his upper arm. "Couldn't stop thinking about Abe, huh?"

He lifted his head and met her eyes. He smiled at her, but his wrinkled eyebrows and wet eyes didn't convince her that the thought of Abe's future death had left his mind. "I shouldn't worry about him like this, especially since he remains in excellent health, but…"

Jo leaned over until her lips almost brushed his ear. "You're his father," she whispered. "You can't stop worrying about him. It's your job."

He bowed his head, forcing her to pull away from him. His eyes closed, and his smile returned as his head bounced in thought. He wiped his nose. After taking a minute, he gazed at her. "Thanks for the reminder."

He drew in a deep breath and smiled. He gestured toward Houston. "Shall we?" He tilted his head. "Hanson said Sgt. Lior lives at Second and First?"

"More like slightly north of that." Jo turned to him as they stepped toward Norfolk. "I'm glad it's not too far to walk. Don't get me wrong; I'm not complaining. I like the idea of not giving up my spot in the garage right behind Katz's."

Henry chuckled. "I don't blame you. Abe desires to leave his parking space as little as possible." He peered over his shoulder and glanced down the street. "I occasionally find it difficult to believe that parking around here had become a premium decades ago. In the late 1940s, you could weave between two cars—" He pulled his hand of of his pocket and mimicked the movement "—and claim a spot as readily as you could cross the street…."

He fell silent. She nodded her understanding that he would tell her the rest of the story when they had more privacy.

They joined a small group crossing Ludlow and rounding the corner toward Houston. Gazing at the restaurants and the hotels lining the street, Jo happily sighed. She had made the right decision when she had sold her townhouse. Yes, she had been happy living in the neighborhood where she and Sean had decided to settle. Being here, though, made her feel more alive than she had ever been before.

She felt Henry's eyes on her. She turned to him. He stared at her, his narrowed eyes and wrinkled forehead hinting at what he might have looked like if he had aged normally. She immediately recognized his expression as the same one he had worn when he had once told her that he had been worried she wasn't taking the time to enjoy life.

"Are you still becoming accustomed to life here?"

She studied his face. "Why do you ask that?"

"It's been three months since your move. You haven't mentioned your life here much. I thought that perhaps you had discovered that the neighborhood didn't live up to your expectations and that you didn't wish to let others know how you truly felt."

The light changed, indicating that they could cross the street still glistening from the early afternoon rain. "I sometimes catch myself heading back to Washington Heights out of habit when I leave work." She smiled at him. "Other than that, I feel more at home here than I had in my old neighborhood." She gave him a pointed look. "Both of my old neighborhoods."

The left side of his lip shot up, causing hers to grow wider. Her mind melted, taking her thoughts with it.

A car horn filled the air. Blinking, she shook herself out of her giddy daze and noted her surroundings. She waved at the driver as she crossed onto the median. How did he always have that effect on her?

They checked the other intersection before following the walkway to the other side of Houston. She retraced their conversation and shoved her sweaty hands into her pockets. "Aside from eating, sleeping, our grouping outings, and talking to you and Abe, I've been spending the rest of my free time rearranging my furniture to my liking and exploring the neighborhood. I haven't thought of anything else."

He smiled at her. "That's good. I like having you as a neighbor."

She grinned back at him and tapped his shoulder with hers. "Me too."

As they approached Avenue A, Henry's eyes glazed over, and a grin crossed his face. He gestured to their left. "There used to be a semi-public school on the other side of the street. Several of my younger patients attended there when the school administrators had granted them scholarships. I wonder what had become of them."

Before she could suggest that they could look his patients up online, they rounded the corner. He reached across her chest and pointed at the appliance shop. "I used to stop at that bakery after making my rounds near here." He briefly closed his eyes and inhaled the air. "The owners baked the most mouthwatering bread you have ever tasted." He chuckled. "Well, aside from Abigail's and Abe's, that is."

Steps later, his head turned to the left. "I had my first professional photograph, other than my mug shots, taken in that building." The left half of his lips curled up. "To this day, I have no idea what I was thinking when I had stepped into the shop and asked the proprietor if he was willing to render his services to me."

Jo bit back her laugh at his impulsive buy as they neared another group walking toward Second Avenue. Her heart pounded in her chest. If one of them overheard what he was saying, they would think that he had gone insane.

Fortunately, they remained focused on the traffic and on their own conversation. She watched them cross the street and disappeared into a nearby pizza place.

The pair crossed the street and turned the corner. As Henry pointed out the former locations of a convent and a German Roman Catholic cathedral, Jo's lips parted, and she slightly shook her head. When he had showed her the general direction of Cecil deMille's and George Gershwin's Morningside Heights homes, she had been a little annoyed by his distraction from the case. How could she have known then that he had walked these streets long before her great-grandparents had made their way to East Harlem? Or that he had personally known both men? Or that he had briefly courted Victoria Browning's great-grandmother and broke it off with her after one of her neighbors had recognized him from his trip through Ellis Island in the 1890s? If she had fully known then what she knew now, she would have kept her mouth shut and enjoyed his "walking tour".

As they approached their final intersection, he slowed to a stop, and his forehead wrinkled. He pointed to the laundromat. "I bought my first bottle of aspirin here. At least not in its current formula. I had long weaned myself off laudanum, and I had run out of the wintergreen oil that I had been rubbing on myself instead. Talk about relief…."

He then glanced at the trio of red five-story buildings just beyond them. "One of my patients assembled umbrellas down the street…."

Jo peeked down the street. Although the man was still far off, she swore she had seen Mike disappear into Sgt. Lior's building.

She gulped. If Henry kept this up….

She took his elbow and forearm and nudged him to the crosswalk. Once she pressed the button for the signal, she leaned over his shoulder and rested her chin on it. "If you keep talking, someone's going to think you're either a member of the historical society or a time traveler." Or worse.

She took a deep breath as she pulled away from him. That was the last thing she should be thinking of. She was here to enjoy herself, and that, and being with Henry, was all that mattered.

He burst into laughter as the lights indicated that it was safe to cross. "Sometimes I can get carried away with myself, huh?"

"You could say that." Then again, he had a right to, especially he had had hardly anyone to share these memories with. Somehow, she had earned his full trust, and she was still stunned that he had decided to open up to her like this even when they had first started working together.

As they crossed both streets, the smells of Chinese take-out, grilled chicken, and pizza wafted over the exhaust from the traffic. She inhaled the aromas. Replace the matzo balls, jerk chicken, and red sauce with them, and it was almost like their neighborhood on a Sunday afternoon.

He glanced down the street at the deli. "Do you want to linger in the neighborhood after caroling practice? We could sample some of the street's offerings."

Jo's stomach grumbled. She giggled. "At least we'll be out one door and in another. Which restaurant?"

"Ladies' choice."

She returned his smile. He might have been old-fashioned in some respects, but who could resist his grin and his deference to her?

They passed the first two restaurants and stopped at the door adjacent to the deli. She peeked in each window. Everything smelled and looked so good. It was hard to pick just one.

She met his eyes. "Maybe later. It'll give me time to decide what I want. How much time do we have left?"

Henry pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. "About ten minutes. Shall we?" He opened the door next to the deli.

She grinned at him. "Let's." She raised her eyes up toward the level Sgt. Lior lived on. "She's up on the fourth floor."

Before Jo could step through the doorway, another woman—Officer Keene, she believed—squeezed in front of her and brushed past Henry without giving either of them a look. Henry turned up his eyebrows and offered her a small, apologetic smile. She returned it and nodded her appreciation of the gesture.

They made their way up the stairs. Jo eyed the semi-dark stairwell. She had always heard about even sergeants being unable to afford an apartment in the city. If Sgt. Lior was anything like her….

"Sgt. Lior must have come into an inheritance." Henry's voice echoed in the narrow space.

Jo peered over her shoulder and mounted the next flight. "Likely one of her parents or an aunt or uncle. From what I've heard, she's single."

"I would say her parents had gifted her the money. Not a large amount, but enough to accommodate her needs."

"What makes you say that?"

While they discussed Henry's observations, Jo bit her lower lip. She had to agree with him. If it weren't for Sean's parents, they would have never been able to afford their house in Washington Heights on their salaries. Nor would she have been able to pay for the place she now lived and still had more than enough money to retire on in the future.

They mounted the last step, and she stepped aside to let Henry take the door. The stairwell opened into an almost sterile white hallway. Remembering the address Mike gave her, Jo directed Henry to the apartment. Christmas music filtered down the hall, and gingerbread filled the air as they reached the door.

Henry opened the door, revealing a quaint living room with a red-brick wall with a roaring fireplace facing them, three more white walls, and a hardwood floor. Garland draped over the mantle and the windows. A piano sat in front of the windows, ready to be played, while a Christmas tree stood guard next to the kitchen.

Jo peeled off her coat and set it with the others. "Nice place, isn't it?"

Ignoring the group, Henry finished removing his coat and scarf and wandered over to the piano. She started to open her mouth to warn him to not touch anything when the familiar notes of "The Twelve Days of Christmas" floated over them. Her eyes widened, and she dropped her jaw. During the Izzy Williams case, Henry had mentioned Abe had learned to play the piano years ago. When did _he_ learn how to play?

She wove her way to him. At the same time, Dr. Washington strolled over to the piano. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Why did that jerk have to come tonight?

Henry looked up at Dr. Washington. The other ME stopped and stared at him. "Dr. Morgan, I'm surprised to see you here. I thought something like this was beneath you."

Jo's blood boiled. The guy had seen Henry in McSorley's several times before. What would make him say that?

Henry perched one hand on top of the piano and set the other on his hip. "Happen you to know, I used to attend caroling parties in my youth. Upon hearing Sgt. Lior's invitation, I decided to join in the festivities. Why would you think I wouldn't take her up on her offer?"

Dr. Washington drew himself up to full height, towering over Henry by about an inch, and pushed his glasses higher onto his nose. "You typically don't associate yourself with your fellow medical examiners. You must have had another reason for coming." He glanced over at Jo. "A rather unsavory one, I might add."

Henry's expression might have been schooled, but Jo recognized the fire in his eyes. It wouldn't be the first time Henry had punched someone to defend a woman's honor, and it certainly wouldn't be his last.

Sensing a fight brewing, Jo surged toward Henry, gripped his arm, and pulled him back. At the same time, Mike stepped between the two combatants and shoved his arm between them. Lucas stood poised to snag the other ME at a moment's notice.

"Hey." Mike's voice drowned out the music. "Let's not draw blood here. Save that for the autopsy room." He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "Then again, maybe not there either. Too many sharp objects lying around."

"We know what you mean." Lucas lodged himself between the men and shielded Henry as Jo steered him to the chair in the corner of the room. "Although it would be pretty cool to see a fist fight break out at work." He mimicked the punches and the jabs. "Two combatants going head-to-head like Rocky Balboa and Apollo Creed…."

"Lucas." Henry tugged his arm out of Jo's grasp, faced his assistant, looked him in the eye. "I wasn't planning to fight Dr. Washington. Not tonight."

Mike breathed out a sigh of relief. "Good, because I didn't want to arrest you for assault and battery."

Jo's stomach fluttered as his gaze softened and found her eyes. How far would he have gone for her tonight?

She broke his gaze and pushed back a falling strand of hair. "I think most people would find it excusable this time." They had when he had punched a witness who had insulted Molly Dawes.

The music stopped. Jo turned around and spotted a petite woman carrying a plate of gingerbread cookies across the room.

"Evening, everyone." She set the plate onto the piano and faced the group. "If you don't know me, I'm Sgt. Candace Lior from the white collar crimes division. When we're here and while we're caroling, you can call me Candy." She glared at two people to Jo's left. "And I especially mean that for the two of you."

Jo peered around the room. Aside from the four friends, Candy's two detectives, and Dr. Washington, she spotted Bert Darnell from her and Mike's floor, four of Henry and Lucas' colleagues, and a couple of officers.

Officer Keene caught her eye and mouthed "Sorry." Jo waved her hand to let her know it was okay.

Candy eyed each of them. "I would like to hold three practices on this coming Saturday, next Monday, and on the 11th. Since I would like to practice in the evenings, I need your names so I can talk to your supervisors and ask them to give you earlier schedules."

Jo looked over at Mike. He pumped his fist in the air. "Yes," he hissed.

Candy continued, unperturbed. "Lt. Reece on the homicide floor has agreed to let us use her bullpen on the 17th for a performance. Afterward, we'll have an actual party here. I'm looking for two more places for us to sing at between the 11th and then. Right now, no one has called me back. If I can't find anywhere else for us, I'll see about talking my landlord into letting us perform in the lobby."

Jo swallowed and nervously looked at the men. Singing in front of Lieu and their colleagues? Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

Candy studied them. "In the meantime, our dress code will be sweaters and jeans." She locked eyes with Henry. "Sweaters. No sweater vests. We want to look festive, not like we stepped off the set of a sitcom."

Jo swallowed her laughter. She exchanged glances with Mike and Lucas, who were doing the same. Getting Henry into a pair of jeans would be a harder job than keeping Dr. Washington away from him.

She looked up at Henry as he closed his mouth and attempted to calm himself. Would he decide that he didn't want to do this anymore because of the clothes? What would she do then?

Candy picked up a stack of papers off the piano stool and passed them out. "One of the perks of being a sergeant is the ability to run off copies without anyone questioning you. I made enough packets so everyone can have one. If you lose one, just ask me for another. And, if you have any suggestions on what to sing, let me know, and I'll work it in."

Jo took one from the detective closest to her and passed the rest to Henry. She flipped through her copy and smiled. Candy had picked an impressive mix of familiar songs. She couldn't think of any to add to the repertoire.

"What do you say about us getting started with 'Deck the Halls'? Men, take the verses while, women, join in on the chorus." After they flipped to the page, Candy sat down at the piano and started the first few notes.

As they sang, Jo cringed at the croaking coming from her left. She dared to look over her shoulder. Sure enough, the awful sound was coming from Dr. Washington.

Candy stopped and spun around so fast that Jo thought her own head would follow the other woman. She pointed at the surly ME. "I think I have just the task for you." She plucked off a set of bells from their hiding place near the cookies and thrust them at him. "You can jingle the bells and hand out the cookies while we sing."

Dr. Washington squared his shoulders. "I came here to sing, not to engage in a childish activity. You can give them to someone who would be more fond of them."

Candy glared at him. "If you don't want to participate, you know where the door is."

Dr. Washington huffed and took the bells from her. Jo snickered. It was rare for anyone to put him in his place. The only other person who could was Henry.

Candy looked at the group and took her seat again. "Let's start over from the beginning."

As they sang—and, thankfully, much better this time—Jo listened to Henry's voice. Her eyes widened. She knew he was good when she had heard him hum, but she didn't realize he was _that_ good.

He caught her eyes, and a hint of enjoyment replaced his pleased look. It suddenly grew warm in the room. How was it that he had thought the same about her?

His baritone notes washed over her as she joined in the chorus. She had to admit they sounded pretty good together.

The timeline for the festivities rolled through Jo's head. Her stomach lurched. Two and a half weeks wasn't enough time to enjoy being with Henry. Then again, neither were their trips home together and the times when she had joined him and Abe for dinner. What she wouldn't give to have more time with him.

The notes of the next song began. Water sprang to Jo's eyes, forcing her to swallow back the unexpected tears. Then again, she didn't want a friendship or a professional partnership with Henry any longer. She wanted something more.

* * *

"Where did you learn how to play the piano and sing?" Jo's eyes sparkled under the street lights.

Henry returned her smile as they left Houston. "I had to sing in church with my family before I had become a doctor, and, in my younger days, several members of my club and I had formed an informal singing group which performed in taverns. As for the piano, it was equal parts my mother and The Grand Tour."

Her eyes widened, encouraging him to continue in spite of the people brushing past them.

He gazed into her eyes and nearly lost himself in them. "According to Mother, when I was a young child—no more than three or four years of age—she had noticed me reaching up to the piano in our drawing room and trying to touch the keys. She hoisted me onto her lap and began to teach me the basics." He glanced over his shoulder. "As soon as I turned 21, I set out for what I had then deemed to be the adventure of a lifetime. When I was in Naples, I found a tutor who was willing to build upon what Mother had given me."

He laughed at the memory of his arguments with his tutor. "I _hated_ the Renaissance composers as most of their works were difficult to play on the piano. The first time I heard Bach, the notes transported me to a completely different world. My tutor told me that he had failed me as an instructor when he overheard me practicing a Baroque piece before my lesson. I never looked back, though."

She leaned over his shoulder, her chin resting as comfortably on it as his head did on a pillow. "Kind of like you, Abe, Chopin, and jazz, huh?"

Henry bowed his head, taking care to not jostle her. "You could say that." After seeing how much joy Red Holland's first lesson had brought to Abe, the older man couldn't help but to grant Abe's request for more lessons from their new musician friend.

Jo lifted her head, and the cool air sent a violent shiver through his body. He pulled his arms tighter against his sides. The night air shouldn't be affecting him this way. He was used to temperatures far colder than this. Why was it bothering him now?

Feeling her eyes on him, he met them. His jaw fell open. How was it possible for fate to lead him another female mortal who wanted to know him as thoroughly as he knew himself? He had long believed that Abigail had been the only one. Now, with Jo….

Several of his and Erica's conversations echoed in his mind. He quickly silenced them. Yes, she knew the perils of immortality as well as he did, but her desire to flee New York had demonstrated to him that she wasn't ready for a more settled life. Even if he had left with her, there was very little chance that their relationship would have led to something more once he would have expressed his longing to return to New York and the people he cared about.

He chuckled. What a difference two days had made. Ever since he had decided it was time to set his heartbreak aside and start over again, he had felt far lighter now than he had earlier in the month.

A door to the bar on their left open, and a modern version of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" nudged the night's events back into view. He grimaced at the sergeant's instructions for their manner of dress.

"What's wrong?" Jo's voice pierced the memory and called him back to the present.

Henry turned to her. "I can't believe Candy wants us to wear sweaters and jeans. I have several perfectly good sweater vests in my closet. And what is wrong with dress pants? They are absolutely suitable for a karaoke bar. Why is she preventing us from wearing them elsewhere?"

Jo smiled at him. "In case you haven't noticed, it _is_ modern casual wear. Maybe you should try them on for a few minutes." She scoffed. "Besides, I've been wondering what you look like in jeans since our first karaoke night out as a team. Seeing you in sweat pants don't come close."

He gaped at her. She had pondered that while she was with another man at the time?

Before he could ask her about it, the shop's corner emerged into view. He huffed. Perhaps he should ask her if she wanted to come in and talk for a while longer.

Remembering her and Hanson's conversation, his heart sank. Then again, perhaps not. Lt. Reece expected them to be at work early in the morning. Jo should get her sleep to be at her best when the call to a scene came in.

They rounded the corner, stepped through the tiny iron gate, and moved up to her building's door. As she opened it, she found his eyes and smiled. "Well, um…" She licked her bottom lip. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

Henry stuffed his hands in his pocket. "If you don't leave for work at an early time. If so, maybe you can come over for dinner after you get off? Abe and I would love for you to join us."

She thought it over for a moment before smiling. "Let Abe know he might need to set an extra plate for me." She glanced at the door and back at him. "Good night."

"Good night to you too."

He watched her enter the building and closed the door behind her. Smiling, he walked back to the shop, his stomach filled with gingerbread cookies from practice, the chicken satay that he had ordered, and one of Jo's dim sum dumplings. Meanwhile, his heart overflowed with good cheer. With the exception of the two minor nuisances, he had enjoyed himself tonight beyond what he could imagine. In fact, the evening had even erased the worries about Abe which had plagued him since his arrival home from work.

He hummed the first few bars of "Let It Snow!", and Jo's voice echoed with his notes. His smile grew even wider. Now he could see why her teacher had selected her to be Eliza Doolittle. Her singing voice sounded as though it belonged with the angels. He could only imagine its cherubic qualities during her childhood.

He crossed Suffolk, fished his keys out, and opened the shop's door. After checking the sign and turning the lock, he made his way upstairs. Upon landing on the final darkened step, he flipped on the light to the kitchen.

The almost eerie silence filled the air, but it didn't bother Henry. Abe had mentioned he and Fawn Mahoney-Ames were going to dinner and the movies this evening, and he didn't know what time he would be back. Knowing Abe, the older man shouldn't wait up for him.

Henry stepped into the living room and set his coat and scarf on the newly purchased coat rack in the corner. He scoffed. How was it possible for Abe and Fawn to reunite after much time had passed between them? Or for them to pick up where they had left off and fall even deeper in love with each other than they were when they were children? To be honest, it was the stuff of dreams.

Henry waking Abe up in the middle of the night and insisting that they must leave their apartment at 69th and 2nd crossed his thoughts. His shoulders sagged. If they hadn't moved because of PFC Hemecker's recognition of him, perhaps the couple could have seen where their relationship would have gone. Perhaps Fawn would have been his daughter-in-law for several decades now, and he could have enjoyed spending time with his grandchildren.

Smiling, he gently tucked the thoughts back into his memory. He shouldn't waste any more time considering those possibilities. Abe and Fawn had finally found each other again, and he should welcome whatever the future held for them.

He cocked his head, passed through the threshold between the kitchen and living room, and looked at the stairs leading to the rooftop terrace. The night was still young. Perhaps he could take in the view before he turned in.

He bounded up the stairs and onto the rooftop. He slowed at the table near the pergola. How many times had he, Abe, and Jo had dined under the stars, or as best as they could given the city's lights, and enjoyed each other's company? How many times had he gazed into her eyes while they supped and found himself losing all of his inhibitions around her? How many times had he wished for time to stand still and let him preserve those moments for all eternity?

"_You want to stay here because of Jo?"_

He wiped his face and rested his forefingers against his lips. If he were honest with himself, after a case involving star-crossed lovers had taken them to Paris nearly five months ago, he had found himself desiring Jo's company more and more. Sure, it had been nice to be able to connect with a fellow—and female—immortal over common interests and experiences. Yet, there was something about Jo which offered him far more than the same type of life he had experienced for the better part of two centuries. A life which, through his relationship with Erica, he had decided he had no longer wanted for himself.

Speaking of Jo….

Henry took a deep breath and wove his way to the corner beyond their seating area. He crossed his arms, leaned over the railing overlooking Suffolk, and gazed toward her building. He smiled as he found her fourth floor fire escape in the distance. She had no idea how much she and her continued friendship meant to him….

"_What am I to you?"_

"_You're my friend. My partner. You're someone I care very deeply about."_

"_Whatever feelings I have for Jo…."_

He bowed his head and took several deep breaths to steady his suddenly surging emotions. Back then, he had developed very deep feelings for her. Feelings which had led him to daydream about what a romantic relationship, and perhaps more, with her would be like. He, however, had ruined his opportunity to see where those feelings would take them by not being truthful about Adam and the _pugio_. The best that he could hope for now was a very deep, affectionate friendship with her which would span her lifetime.

"_You wouldn't have stayed in New York if, at least on a subconscious level, you didn't feel that there may be more to your and Jo's relationship than just a friendship."_

Henry narrowed his eyes and lifted his head. His unfocused gaze darted over the passing traffic below. Was Abe suggesting that his feelings for her had remained dormant under his guilt over his lies and the way he had previously lived his life? Was his son also suggesting that he was picking up on cues from Jo which indicated that she genuinely reciprocated his feelings and would like to explore a courtship with him?

He huffed. There was nothing he could do about it. She hadn't mentioned any displeasure about their relationship. As far as he knew, she wanted nothing more than the friendship which they had formed and tended to since the moment they had met.

He took one more look at Jo's building before turning back to the terrace's entrance. Still, it would be nice to find out whether Abe was right. Everyone, including Dr. Washington, was convinced that there was more to his and Jo's relationship than meets the eye. If their observations were accurate, then seeing how Jo truly felt about him might be worth pursuing.

* * *

**Author's Note: **There is a parking lot closer to Abe and Jo on Essex Street. For the story, though, Abe and Henry had decided years ago that no one should know where Abe parks to prevent anyone from following him to Henry's location after one of Henry's deaths. Since the garage behind Katz's is indoors, it made more sense for Abe—and, now, Jo– to park there.

The intersection where Candy's apartment is located is East 2nd Street and 1st Avenue. The stores existed in May and November 2016, but, as of Google Street View's last view of the area in June 2019, all three restaurants are now closed. Henry's description of the East Village is from Plate 19 [Map bounded by E. 7th St., Ave. B, Houston St., Bowery, 4th Ave.] of Atlas of the City of New York: From Official Records, Private Plans & Actual Surveys [1890-1893] in the New York Public Library Digital Collections and from NYPL Map Warper: Layer 1142 Atlas 110. Vol. 2, 1903. By the way, Candy's apartment complex is the former umbrella maker's shop. The histories of aspirin (in Henry's case, salicyclic acid), laudanum, and wintergreen come from Wikipedia.

Matt and the writers don't say whether Henry was Victoria Browning's ancestor's family physician or a female ancestor's boyfriend. I usually assume he treated their medical needs. This story kind of calls for the latter. (P. S. Nothing more than a chaste kiss happens between him and Victoria's great-grandmother.) Henry going on The Grand Tour is a bit of a head canon of mine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note**: I am so sorry this is very late. I had a couple of things come up which needed attention. (Dad's doing better now. He's now in physical therapy and rehab. Worrying about him took up most of my creative energy. Housework took the rest.) To make up for it, I will try to post two chapters in the same week at some point.

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I hope that you will enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"Are you and Jo going to practice together at the shop?"

Henry lifted his head from his work. "What are you talking about?"

Lucas lowered his clipboard and reached behind his head. "It's been a while since you've both sang in a group setting…in your case, a lot longer than she has…."

Henry tilted his head. "Your point?"

Lucas placed the clipboard on the autopsy table. "I don't know. Maybe you can use it as an excuse to make a move on her." His eyes glowed as his filmmaker's mind churned with the possibilities. "First, kick Abe out of the apartment for the night and the next day. Tell him no offense, but an old man needs his privacy. Then, invite Jo over for your own personal night of singing. While she's there, cook a scrumptious dinner and ask her to help you in the kitchen. She comes in, and you can wrap your arms around her…." He pantomimed the movement.

Henry laid his Hagedorn needle on a patch of Paul Magruder's bare skin, set his hands on the autopsy table, and, with narrowing eyes, leveled his gaze at the young man. "Are you suggesting that I should attempt to seduce Jo?"

Lucas stopped the gesture and dropped his arms. "It wouldn't entirely be a deception." He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and arched his back. "Come on. You know you want to. I saw the way you looked at her when we were at Paul's apartment today. It was almost as if you hadn't seen her for an eternity. You can tell her that you want to spend more time with her. If anything more were to come after that…."

Henry leaned over the autopsy table as far as he could without contaminating the body. "When I was your age, a relationship leading to matrimony was built on love, trust, a mutual understanding of the other, and a deep regard for each other." Regrettably, he had mistaken Nora's affection for him as love while he had courted her. "Not on purely physical intimacy." He pointed his finger at his assistant. "And if you believe that I am willing to take liberties with Jo, you are mistaken."

He moved back to his original position, took up the needle, and resumed stitching the Y-shaped cut on Paul's chest back together. "Like I need assistance in the romance department anyway," he muttered. "I was courting while his ancestors needed their mothers' milk."

He pursed his lips. He wouldn't admit it to Lucas, but the past two days _had_ felt like an eternity. While he had been performing autopsies on another group of former hospital and hospice patients, Lt. Reece had given Jo yesterday off. The day before that, she and Hanson had finally arrested Boris Farley's killer and had spent the entire day questioning him. Lt. Reece had attempted to talk Dr. Lippmann into permitting him to go upstairs for his meta-analysis. However, with several medical examiners calling in sick with varying degrees of flu symptoms, the OCME was somewhat understaffed. If it hadn't been for the lieutenant dropping by his office during her lunch break yesterday, he would have never known about the recent developments.

He huffed. Perhaps Lucas had a brilliant idea. Not necessarily the seduction part, but an additional practice would provide him with an excuse to spend more time with her.

Her alto notes harmonizing with his baritone ones echoed in his head. His heart fluttered up into his throat. Technically and objectively, she wasn't too far off of perfect pitch. She had several insignificant variations during key changes, but there was nothing to suggest that she couldn't have had a very successful career in musical theater or as a singer had she selected one of those paths instead of law enforcement.

Henry swallowed back his disappointment as he approached their victim's navel. "Besides, I don't believe we need the extra practice. She's quite talented as she already is. We'll sing together at rehearsals with everyone else."

"Whatever floats your boat, Big Guy." Lucas' voice coaxed Henry to look back up at his assistant. "But what if fate is giving you two a second chance at whatever I interrupted before she broke it off with Isaac Monroe? Shouldn't you take it before it's too late?"

Henry's stomach knotted within him as he made the final few stitches and knotted the twine. There were days, like today, when he wished that he had come up with a plausible excuse to explain away Lucas' observations and rather accurate conjecture about his life. Perhaps the occasional but subtle reminders of everyone's ultimate fate wouldn't sting like this one did now.

Blinking back the tears in the corners of his eyes, he snipped the twine, placed the needle back on the tray for sterilization, and covered Paul's body with the sheet. He eyed Lucas, who had returned to the samples which they had laid on the tray beside them. Then again, Gloria Carlyle had once reminded him of the same thing. If he hadn't taken the chance on Abigail, he would have regretted it for all of eternity.

"_If you have the chance at love…."_

Henry shook his head, removed his gloves, deposited them in the trash can, and headed for his office. He certainly found Jo to be a very special woman. Still, love and a very deep care for another person were two different things. He might fall madly in love with her, but if she expressed merely a fondness for him, all it would lead to was another heartbreak.

He sighed as he reached the lab table in front of his office. When he had told Jo that he had cared about her very deeply, he had been concerned that she would shun him—at best—once she discovered what he was. Since she hadn't, who knew what she would think of a comment like that now.

"Dr. Morgan."

Henry froze at the sound of Dr. Washington's voice. He closed his eyes and resisted the urge to groan. How Dr. Lippmann could allow the surly medical examiner to denigrate the profession by his continued employment with the OCME was anybody's guess.

Henry pirouetted toward his fellow colleague, smiled, and hoped the other man didn't notice his gritting teeth. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to my autopsy room?"

"I wanted to know if you were coming to rehearsal tonight. It would be a shame if you weren't there. Everyone seemed to enjoy your presence."

Henry scrutinized Dr. Washington's bearings. If it weren't for the slight bite in Dr. Washington's tone, his direct eye contact and relaxed posture would have convinced the immortal that the man was being genuine.

Henry met the other man's eyes. "I'll be there, another body notwithstanding." He tilted his head. "Why are you interested?"

Dr. Washington drew himself up a little taller. "No reason." He shifted his weight onto one foot. "Based on what I've heard while returning from my lunch break, the detective assigned to this case—." He nodded toward the corpse on the table. "—has her hands tied up in following her leads. As it would prevent her from coming, maybe you can find it within yourself to keep more appropriate company for a change. Unlike last practice."

Henry drew himself up to his full height and squared his shoulders. His heart pounded against his scar, threatening to break the knotted tissue apart. How dare he talk about Jo like that? Aside from the grief-filled nights in which she had sought comfort in another man's arms following Sean's death, her character was beyond reproach. If Dr. Washington had an issue with him seeing her, the other doctor should leave her out of it and fight him like a man.

Henry glanced at the instruments on the trays and gulped. He had vaguely heard Hanson's comment about a fight in the autopsy room at practice. He, however, now saw the detective's apprehension about the potential for conflict. The instruments weren't effective as weapons, but he could attest they could cause significant injury—and even death—if used in just the right manner.

He relaxed his posture. He didn't want another trip to the East River again, especially not at any time over the next two weeks. If he were to go there, Officers Keene and Howard–Nadia and Rachel, respectively– would arrest him and tease him about his nakedness. The questions will follow, and….

He inhaled as he could once again see Jo cradling his elbow, taking his shoulder, and escorting him away from the crowd of officers and detectives who had teased him about his "skinny dipping" two Christmases ago. More than likely, though, both women would concern themselves with an attempt to "score a date" with him once he was released from the detention center or Lt. Reece's office. They seemed like nice ladies. But Jo….

Dr. Washington's comment rolled in his head. Henry's stomach weighed heavily within him. Perhaps the other man was right. Perhaps the criminal element would refuse to see Lt. Reece's desire to give Jo and Hanson the same days off that he had, and her leads would force her to miss rehearsal tonight. If so….

He looked over Dr. Washington's shoulder to see if he could obtain some reassurance from Lucas, but he couldn't see the young man anywhere. Meanwhile, Carl entered the room and, with the assistance of another technician, lifted Paul's corpse onto the gurney for transport to the coolers.

Henry willed himself to remain calm. Lucas must have taken the samples to the lab while he wasn't looking.

_Great. What a time __for __Lucas __to c__hoose to do__ that._

Henry locked eyes with Dr. Washington. "Jo will be there. Lt. Reece will see that her caseload will not overwhelm her need for balance in her life." For as long as he knew Jo's superior, she had always given her detectives—and, surprisingly, him as well—the time they needed to enjoy themselves or to tend to whatever matters outside of work which needed their attention. If she were to see that Jo and Hanson were about to forego a night of pleasure, she would order them to leave the case alone until tomorrow.

Dr. Washington dipped his head and glared over his glasses. "I wouldn't count on that if I were you. You know how bereaved families will refuse to talk about their love d one's death at this time of year. It kills the holiday spirit."

As Dr. Washington left the room, Henry slumped against the lab table, almost knocking the microscope out of its place. He stared at the door. He was looking forward to catching up with Jo this evening. If Dr. Washington's prediction was true, perhaps it was best if he skipped practice as well and attempt to connect with her tomorrow.

He folded his hands together and huffed. Then again, he should go in case she showed up. If she was kept away on account of her duties, he could spend the evening with Lucas and the other officers. Perhaps that would discourage Dr. Washington from needling him any more tonight….

...and, perhaps, making a few new friends would help him take his mind off of missing Jo for the evening.

* * *

"I thought this day would never end."

Jo bit back her laugh at Mike's comment as they mounted the stairs leading to Candy's apartment. He had no idea what an eternity felt like.

"Tell me about it. I thought we would never get through Midtown traffic." It seemed like everyone was going to Rockefeller Plaza to see the recently lit Christmas tree, the store windows along Fifth Avenue, or Bryant Park for their winter village. "If it's anything like it is today, I don't want to go out and interview family members in that part of town for the next couple of weeks unless I take the train."

She pulled her lips together to keep her sigh from escaping. She had wanted to go to Bryant Park and the stores during the holidays since she was a little girl, but something had always come up. First, it was her father's burglaries and her schoolwork. Then, it was witnessing his eventually fatal assault on his most recent burglary victim and his murder trial. After that, her work kept her so busy that she didn't even think about them until she had met Sean. They had planned to see them and the Rockettes' performance at Rockefeller Center during the 2013 Christmas season, but he died the week before they could go.

Her eyes moistened, and she wiped away her tears. Sean had been dead for nearly three years now, and more than enough time had passed since she, Henry, and Mike had re-examined his death. How could the memory be as raw now as it was when she had discovered the tickets for the Rockettes buried under the paperwork on his desk in their townhouse?

She heaved herself up the next step. Henry had once said she would always feel a part of her late husband, and she had once encouraged Henry to talk about Abigail by telling him the good memories were the ones which hurt the worst. If she were to mention this to him, he would say that her memory was like a kiss from Sean reminding her of his love for her.

Jo's heart ached within her during her thought. She huffed. Admittedly, she had been daydreaming about being in a relationship with Henry since he had walked her to her building's door after their last practice. Something that she hadn't done since they had babysat Armen Aronov's grandson. Were the feelings that she had for Henry before he had blown it by seeking revenge for Adam's role in Abigail's death starting to return?

"The tree is gorgeous, though. Karen would love it."

Mike's words called Jo back to the present. They rounded the corner and hiked up another flight of stairs. "Are you thinking about taking her there when we get some free time?"

"And find a sitter for my two little monsters? No, thank you. I think everyone in my neighborhood has blocked our numbers by now."

"You know Henry and Abe will take them in a heartbeat. The guys enjoyed having them at the shop when you and Karen flew out to Arizona to be with her mother in the hospital last year."

"Doc and Abe might survive, but their antiques likely won't. With the prices they sell the goods for, I can't afford repaying them for anything Donnie and Matt break."

Before Jo could comment, they found the door leading onto the floor. They opened it and followed the hallway down to Candy's apartment. As they approached her door, she wrinkled her eyebrows.

There was piano music drifting toward her. _Live_ piano music.

She looked over at Mike. "Are we late?"

He quickly checked his watch, and his right eyebrow shot up. "We're about five minutes early." He glanced at the door. "You don't suppose they're starting without us?"

With her heart pounding at the possibility of explaining their lateness, Jo grasped the doorknob and twisted it. "Let's find out."

She opened it and stepped through the entry. She breathed a sigh of relief as she noted three groups scattered throughout Candy's living room.

Removing her coat, Jo looked over at the piano to see who was playing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas". Her stomach fluttered the moment she recognized the curls on Henry's head.

Her eyes widened as she listened to the melancholy notes. She didn't know he knew how to play that song…or how to play it with a slightly jazzy sound.

She smiled. He likely had heard it the Christmas before he had shipped off to Europe with his US Army medical unit during World War II or shortly after the war had ended. As for the jazz, Abe must have taught his father how to play recently. According to Lieu and Pepper Evans, the genre gave musicians a voice for their emotions. If so, Henry was probably pouring his heart out in his music.

Her heart clenched within her. Did something awful happen to Henry at work while she was investigating their leads? He was fine when they were at the scene. And it wasn't like him to channel his emotions into something creative.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jo saw Lucas finishing a potato chip with dip on it and taking long steps toward her. She straightened her back and tensed up. He had better not think about hugging her. She wasn't in the mood for one. Not to mention, it would feel weird coming from him.

"Hey, guys." He waved and eased up to her and Mike's sides. "Glad you could make it tonight. We—." He pointed his thumb at the pair of his fellow assistant MEs and Bert. "—were starting to think you got tied up with a witness."

Mike huffed. "I wish. The traffic's murder out there."

Lucas met Jo's eyes and then nodded toward Henry. "Henry's bummed out about something. I haven't been able to get him to talk since I returned from taking samples to toxicology."

He huffed. "He's even more tight-lipped about it than he is about his im—." He looked at Mike, pulled his lips together, and swung around. "—nterest in the past."

Mike glared at him. "I don't think there's an 'm' in 'interest'."

Lucas stared back. "I didn't—."

Jo ignored the men and stepped toward Henry. Hoping that they wouldn't interrupt her, she waved at Bert and Henry's two colleagues Fred Kaye and Danny Crosby as she passed them.

She bit back her laugh. It was weird calling the two MEs by their first names. Yet, Candy had insisted on everyone dropping the formalities while they were here. She claimed it would build camaraderie, but, with Henry and Dr. Washington's bad blood, Jo wasn't so sure about that.

When she was halfway to the piano, her eyes landed on Nadia leaning on top of it like she was a jazz singer harmonizing with the pianist during a performance. Or Lucy trying to convince Schroeder to become her boyfriend. Which one, Jo couldn't decide.

Nadia twisted around, and her mouth dropped slightly open as Jo approached her. She pushed herself away from the instrument, plucked a festive red paper cup off its top, and moved toward the detective. Eggnog wafted into Jo's nostrils, tempting her to head over to the table filled with desserts near the kitchen and get some herself.

"Jo, I didn't see you there."

Jo parted her lips to release the tension in her jaw. "Enjoying the music?"

Nadia swung over to Jo's side and faced Henry's back. The first lonely notes of "I'll Be Home for Christmas" flowed past them.

She set one foot on top of the other. "Uh-huh."

The sultry tone forced Jo's mouth open. She turned to the tall, red-haired uni. _Oh, no, she didn__'t_.

Nadia twisted toward Jo. "Sorry. I didn't realize he was your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend."

Jo's stomach lurched into her throat. She wished they were dating. Maybe….

Nadia cast a longing gaze in Henry's direction. "If you don't want him, I'll take him. Can't let an eligible, handsome, British doctor be lonely all his life."

Jo's eyes widened, and she opened and closed her mouth a few times. She might have no business telling Henry who he could see, but she knew a mismatch when she saw one.

Gratefully, Nadia turned and migrated toward Travis and Stan, the two other assistant MEs. Jo sharply inhaled and peeked over her shoulder to see who had witnessed the women's exchange. Fortunately, everyone was engrossed in their own conversations.

Jo found Henry again. Humming along with the start of the second round, she strolled over to the piano and took Nadia's place. She crossed her arms, placed them on top of the body, and leaned over to watch him.

His head remained bowed, and his fingers glided over the keys as effortlessly as they handled an autopsy. She smiled. A tall, dark-headed, and handsome man frequently turned quite a few single women's heads. Finding out he's a doctor or that he had a mysterious past attracted even more female admirers. Still, there was something special about this one that made her own heart flutter every time she saw him.

He reached up, lifted a book off the piano, and flipped through it. Jo tilted her head. She hadn't notice it before. Was that where Candy got her sheet music the last time they were here?

He finally found what he was looking for, set the book back in its place, pressed his hand against the pages, and started another song. She smiled. He was picking out favorites from a happier time in his life.

Knowing he needed a distraction before Candy entered the room, Jo reached her body out as far as it could go. "Hey, there."

The notes trailed off and then stopped. Henry lifted his head. As he studied her, his mouth fell open. His eyes then glowed, and a grin crossed his lips.

"I didn't notice you there."

She brushed a strand of hair back over her ear and broke her gaze for a moment. "I just got here. Since we were coming tonight, Mike and I dropped my car off at the garage before we drove uptown to question Paul's parents and friends. For a while, I thought…."

"I'm glad you're here now." His soft, gentle voice washed over her and heated the air around her.

She gazed into his brown eyes and studied the golden specks in them. What she wouldn't give to keep this moment forever.

"Henry?"

Henry and Jo broke their gazes, blinked, and twisted to the feminine voice. Jo's shoulders slumped when Candy met her eyes.

His Adam's apple bobbing, Henry peered up at her. "Yes?"

"Everyone's telling me how much they enjoy listening to you tonight. Would you like to keep playing?"

He opened and closed his mouth. He then twisted to face Jo. His worried eyes met hers. She offered him a small smile to let him know she would respect his decision.

He mulled it over for a moment before turning back to their host. "Only if everyone else gather around the piano as closely as they can." He bowed his head and smiled. "It was a family tradition before I moved to New York."

"Alright. I'll let everyone know."

As Candy headed off to tell the others, Jo purposely stepped as close to Henry as possible. He scooted over, and his eyes motioned for her to sit down beside him.

Her own eyes widened. Before she could react, her body slid into the spot and wiggled slightly toward him.

Their eyes met, and her heart fluttered. Nervous about their proximity in this setting, she peeked down at the stool.

She narrowed her eyes and looked back up at him. "Are you sure you have enough room?"

He chuckled. "I've sat on smaller piano stools than this." He leaned over until his lips almost touched her ear. "Most were about the size of a chair. This is more like a love seat compared to them."

She gazed into his eyes as he pulled away. That small?

He grinned. "Do you want to turn the pages for me after the first song?"

Not trusting her voice, she nodded. Anything to stay with him for most of the night.

At that moment, the door creaked open. Henry and Jo pivoted to see who had entered the apartment. Dr. Washington glared at them over his glasses as he removed his coat and placed it with the others.

Jo stiffened her back. He had better not say a word about her and Henry. They were consenting adults, and, as far as she knew, neither of their superiors would object to their seeing each other. If anything, Lieu might encourage them to take their relationship to the next level.

Candy spotted him, eased the jingle bells off the mantle, and handed it to him. "Harold, glad you came to practice. We're just about to start."

Dr. Washington groaned as he accepted them. He followed her and the rest of the group over to the piano. "Were you now?"

Candy locked eyes with Henry. "Henry, care to start us off with 'Jingle Bells'?"

While Henry found the song, Jo looked up at the group. Mike and Lucas joined her side, with Lucas positioning himself behind her to stand guard. Mike's right eyebrow arched up while Lucas attempted to hold back a grin.

She widened her eyes at them and shrugged. She didn't see anything wrong with helping Henry tonight.

She peered around Henry's back. Candy surveyed the group. "Are we ready?"

Henry twisted back to the keys while Dr. Washington positioned the bells onto his palm.

"1, 2, 3, 4."

"_Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…."_

As everyone sang, Jo stole a glance at Henry. She struggled to keep her mind on the words. She wasn't sure what was coming over her tonight, but she kind of liked it. Whatever it was, though, she wished that it wouldn't go away any time soon.

* * *

Henry gazed up at the moon and the passing clouds as he and Jo waited for the light at the corner of Houston and Allen to change. He still could not believe his good fortune. When he had overheard the patrol officers discussing the Midtown traffic as he left for the shop, he had given up hope for any time spent with her this evening. Yet, fate had found a way for her to arrive in time for rehearsal, and fate had provided a way for them to return home together.

The light changed, and they and their fellow pedestrians set off across the street. He peered toward Katz's and smiled. The weekend line snaked around the front of the building and down both Houston and Orchard, and he could imagine the crowd lining up along Ludlow as well. He was relieved that he and Jo had decided to take Allen home instead of returning via Suffolk.

Blinking and shaking his head, he stepped onto the sidewalk and pivoted toward the other side of the street. He had no idea what had possessed him for the evening. He had never commandeered someone else's piano for a private performance. After Abigail had left him, he had never selected two of her favorite carols to play…or the song which they had danced to the Christmas after they had become engaged. Nor would he have considered playing any of them with a jazz sound. And he certainly would not have imposed his family tradition onto others.

One thing was for sure: whatever had taken hold of him wasn't the two cups of non-alcoholic eggnog he and Jo had enjoyed during their break and again before they had left.

They quickly crossed over Allen and turned toward Stanton. Henry looked over at Jo. She met his eyes with glowing ones of her own.

"What?" They eased past the diner's customers and moved between a small group leaving the bar behind it.

She offered him a small smile which urged him to unburden himself if needs be. "Lucas said you were pretty bummed earlier. Care to talk about it?"

He dove into his ocean of memories and found the one. He huffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Dr. Washington…."

She waved her hand in the air. "Enough said. That man can bring anyone down with one of his know-it-all glares or stares. I'm surprised Candy hasn't thrown him out of the group yet."

Henry bowed his head and grinned. "Perhaps she's allowing him to stay in hopes that the rest of us would rub off on him." He scoffed. "I fear she might be a little misguided in her efforts, though. I don't think the man has one shred of holiday spirit in him. If she knew what was best for the group, she would boot him out in an instance."

Jo brushed an escaped strand of hair over her ear. "Maybe."

He studied the crowds as they strolled past two more bars. The relief of Thanksgiving's end coupled with the joys of the first official weekend of the American Christmas season had brought out almost everyone in the neighborhood.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jo pulled her arms around her and tightened them against her chest. He followed her stare until he spied two college-aged men walking toward them. He tensed as they ogled her. Before he could analyze their behavior fully, they walked past the couple and into the espresso bar behind them.

Henry inhaled. How many times had she frequented a bar, hoping to bury her memories of Sean permanently and finding that the drink had flooded her with more instead? How many men had attempted to take advantage of her, thinking that her grief made her an easy target? How many times had she regretted accompanying her would-be suitor to his place for a night which refused to give her what she wanted?

He pulled his lips together. He wished that he had been in her life to comfort her or to protect her from herself during those dark days, but he wasn't. The best he could do now was to provide her with a distraction.

"What did Paul's relatives and friends have to say?"

She startled out of her trance, gathered her thoughts, and huffed. "He and his girlfriend had broken up recently." She tilted her head. "He felt that, with his abusive background, he was too different for her and that he couldn't give her the life she wanted." She chuckled. "Naturally, his parents denied the abuse and claimed that she had corrupted their son."

"And the girlfriend?"

"She's very grief-stricken. I couldn't get her to talk. Mike and I think she genuinely loved him and would follow him anywhere, just as long as they were together."

Henry broke his gaze and surveyed the traffic flowing along Stanton. That sounded very familiar.

"Are you going to see Paul's psychiatrist soon?" The more he worked with Jo, the more he was starting to see how frequently therapy was offered to a person in emotional distress. If it were anything like he had experienced two years ago, the field had come a very long way from the "treatments" he had received when Nora had feared for his own well-being.

Jo studied him, her mouth starting to shape a "How?". A moment later, she nodded. "Tomorrow." She huffed again. "I wish you could come with us. We really need your insight on this one."

They rounded the corner of Allen and Stanton. His heart sinking at the thought of the unpredictability of his recent assignments, Henry shoved his hands into his pockets. The fingers of his right hand found the engravings on his watch and traced a path along them. "I wish I could as well."

The memories of the evening beckoned him to their shores. As he relived them, his chest filled with warmth. Her sudden appearance at the piano and her stay by his side throughout the night erased every care he had. How he would like to linger there for the remainder of his days.

Steps later, they found themselves crossing Orchard and strolling past another bar and a pair of shops. He looked back at her. She rewarded him with another smile and a finger brushing through her hair.

He smiled. She had once said he knew how to make her feel better. He had thought she was being slightly sarcastic, but, tonight, he was starting to believe that she meant it.

Just as he began to relax, a tall, muscular man approached them. He ogled Jo and guided himself to her side of the sidewalk. He grinned at her as though he had a prize in his sights.

Henry straightened his posture and stiffened his back. If the man had thought about what he would do with her….

He saw her stiffening. He swallowed. He needed to get her out of harm's way…now.

He scanned the streets. He didn't see a viable option. No matter what they chose, the cad would follow them until he got what he wanted from them.

An idea hit Henry. _Perhaps__…_.

He leaned over her shoulder. "Please forgive me for taking a little liberty with you, but I don't see any other way. Just trust me on this."

He reached around her waist, pulled her closer to him, and smiled at the rascal. Their companion widened his eyes, stepped over to the other side of the sidewalk, and offered Henry a smile apologizing for moving in on his girl. He returned the smile with one of his own and hoped that the man didn't see through the ruse moments later.

As they passed the shuttered bistro, Henry felt something snake around his waist. He glanced down at his side and noticed Jo's hand resting on it.

His skin tingled, and the air around him grew warmer. He tried to think, but everything jumbled in his mind.

Their muscles bumped and jostled before settling into a comfortable rhythm. He briefly closed his eyes as it shushed every thought into silence.

Her eyes glowed under the street lamps, and her glistening strands of hair bounced with each step. As he watched them, his stomach's flutters grew more intense, and his knees trembled under him.

He opened his mouth to comment on her beauty, but no words came out. It was almost as if she had stolen his vocabulary as well.

Taking in all of the sensations, he grinned. He had no other option but to surrender himself to her.

They crossed Ludlow and Essex in silence. As they neared the school between Essex and Norton, Henry blinked as though he was starting to wake up from a vivid dream.

They stopped, and he looked around at their surroundings. He inwardly groaned. Soon, Jo would be home, and he would have to leave her for the night.

He turned to her. She gazed into his eyes. He grinned. It didn't matter. He still had a little more time with her.

They crossed Norton and strolled down the street to her building. Once at her gate, he reluctantly untangled himself from her.

He studied her. She pouted and brushed her hair back. He glanced at her door, and his heart sank in his chest.

He rolled his tongue in his mouth. "Wou—."

He blinked several times. How did his words come back to him? Or his thoughts, for that matter?

He took a deep breath and hoped the rest of the words would come out. "Would you like for me to come upstairs with you?"

She met his eyes and smiled. "I…."

Giggling, she studied the ground for a second. "I would love to."

"Great."

He opened the gate, allowed her to pass through, and closed it behind him. They mounted the stairs, and he opened the door to let them in.

Once inside, he placed his hand on the small of her back and let her guide him up the four flights of stairs and into the hallway. The moment they stepped away from the stairwell, he reached over and took her by the waist again.

They walked in silence until they reached her door. As they broke apart, she fumbled for her keys in her coat pocket.

She scoffed. His heart raced. He had never seen her that clumsy before, but it was endearing.

She pulled out her keys, unlocked her door, and opened it. After she entered her apartment, she turned to him. Her eyes met his. For a moment, they begged for him to follow her inside.

Jo smiled at him. "I guess I'll see you in the morning?"

"You will. Good night, detective."

"'Night."

The door shut in front of him. Henry's feet remained rooted in their place.

He peered through the door as though he could see her through it. Perhaps he should have followed her in. The night would be lonely without her.

He reached out and placed his hand against the door. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

His knees buckled under him. He gulped. Perhaps he should return home himself. She didn't need to find him passed out from weakness when she would start her day.

He turned and made his way back through the building, but his feet felt as though they never touched the ground. He blinked several times as his thoughts became fuzzy again. If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up.

* * *

**Author's Note: ** Jo's comment about New York traffic is from WLNY's "NYC 2016 Gridlock Alert Days For Holiday Season". The song which Henry is playing when Jo interrupts him is "The Christmas Waltz", written in 1954. "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" and "I'll Be Home for Christmas" were both written in 1943. "Jingle Bells" was written in 1857. If you look on Georgian Antiques' web site under "piano stools", you will notice most stools from the Georgian era and later were designed for only one person.

Danny Crosby and Fred Kaye are named after Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, and Fred Astaire, the leads of the American Christmas films _White Christmas_ (Crosby and Kaye) and _Holiday Inn _(Crosby and Astaire). Lucy leaning against Schroeder's child's toy piano and—unsuccessfully—attempting to make him her boyfriend is a running gag from the American comic strip "Peanuts".


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: I'm sorry about posting this chapter late again. It looks like I'm letting myself get in the way, and I'm not keeping up with my promised timeline. I am so sorry about that, and I want to start holding myself accountable to you. I'll see what I can do, and I hope that I can get the full story posted by mid-January as planned.

That said, I hope you'll enjoy the—slightly longer—chapter. I couldn't cut a scene.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

The first rays of sunlight danced on Jo's eyelids. Moaning, she threw her arms over her eyes. How could it be so bright already?

"Just five more minutes." She took a deep breath and remained as still as she could, hoping that she could drift off to sleep again.

Instead, her stomach twisted itself into knots. She lowered her arm and rested it on her waist. In a way, it felt like she was going to be sick.

She rolled onto her side and pushed herself up. Hair flopped over her face and dangled in front of her eyes.

Groaning, she wiggled her arm under the mess and pushed it back to where it belonged. If she didn't know any better, she would say that she was hung over.

Her stomach grumbled again. She really shouldn't try talking to Dr. Norbert while she was like this. Maybe she should call Mike and ask him if he could go to the cafe alone.

Jo reached over her end table and picked up her phone. Just as she started to dial her partner, the time caught her eye.

She wrinkled her forehead. "It's only seven o'clock?! How…?"

She thought back to when she had turned in last night. Her eyes darted around the room. The last things she remembered were reluctantly giving up on Henry knocking on her door to ask her if he could stay with her for a while longer and going to bed. But that was….

_Henry_.

With her free hand, she reached around her waist and found the spot where his hand had rested. Her breathing quickened. She could once again see the man crossing in front of her. Feel Henry wrapping his arm around her waist. Soak in his reassurance that he would always protect her or back her up. She snuggled against him and noted how the glow from the street lamps transformed him into an angel. Felt the ache in her chest when they arrived at her building. Sensed her emptiness as she placed her hand on her closed door and hoped that he was still on the other side, waiting for her to invite him in.

She took a deep breath. That's why she had gotten only four hours of sleep last night.

Her heart raced in her chest, and she closed her eyes. Maybe she should have invited him in. Even if they spent the entire night talking, she would be much more refreshed than this.

She turned, looked out her window, and bit her bottom lip. Henry should be up at this time. Maybe seeing him for a few minutes would make her feel better.

Her stomach reminded her of its presence. She glared at it. Maybe he could give her a few ideas of what was wrong with it. She would give anything to make it shut up.

* * *

Henry buried his head between his folded arms. Why did the sun have to be so bright?

He tightened his forearms around him and closed his eyes. His knees had barely supported him since the moment he had risen from the sofa this morning, and he could not think straight to save his life. Perhaps, if he could snatch some additional sleep, he would feel better.

A "thunk" rang in his ears. He reluctantly lifted his head. He squinted as he took in the contents in the glass before him.

He wrinkled his nose at the awful-smelling green stuff. He would rather have a cup of tea laced with aconite than to drink Abe's hangover cure.

"The eggnog threw you for a loop last night?"

Henry turned toward Abe, but his unfocused gaze missed his son. He wiped his face and threw his hands back on top of the table.

"I didn't touch a drop of alcohol last night. The eggnog was non-alcoholic."

"Are you sure? When I came home from my night out with Marco and Jerry at midnight, I found you on the sofa staring out the window. I tried asking you if you were okay, but you could barely hold a conversation. Not to mention, you were dozing off on the sofa when I checked on you at three this morning."

"Abraham! I wasn't drunk!"

He finally found the younger Morgan. He gulped at the sight of Abe towering over him and scowling.

Henry lowered his eyes and stared at his hands. He shouldn't have snapped at his son like that. Given his history with the beverage, Abe had every right to be concerned about his father's drinking habits.

"What's gotten into you, Pops?" Abe searched his father's face. "I've never seen you like this before."

"I don't know. I—."

The voices of his fellow medics ribbing him about his daze after he had wrapped an arm around Abigail's shoulder one night following their first meeting echoed from the past. Henry's chest warmed. At the time, he had been in absolute denial of his feelings for the beautiful nurse who had captured his attention. It wasn't until after they had shipped out to Milan before he had realized that they were right.

His eyes darted around the room as the memories faded into the ones from last night. Was history repeating itself, this time with Jo? Wh—?

He shook his head. That was impossible. His fatigue was causing him to imagine things.

He landed on the green beverage before him. Perhaps he should take a few sips of it. He usually was more cognitively alert after drinking it. Even if he didn't feel better otherwise, the mental clarity would be worth it.

He squared his shoulders, gathered his courage, lifted the glass, and sipped as much of the drink as he could tolerate. He wrinkled his nose and scraped his tongue over his teeth. The moment he set the half-empty glass down, the cognitive fog lifted.

He looked up from the table. Abe retrieved the eggs and the milk from the refrigerator and took them to the stove.

Henry wrinkled his eyebrows. _What time is it?_

He reached into his pocket, found his watch, and checked the time. His eyes widened. "Seven, fifteen? How could that be?," he muttered.

He wiped his face. Only four hours' sleep. That would explain his mental fatigue.

His mind went back to the telephone ring which had awakened him. He groaned. If that were Adam….

"Who called this morning?" His heart pounded in his chest.

Abe turned to the immortal and set a hand on his hip. "That was the OCME. They rearranged your schedule so that you have the day off today. Good thing, too, with the way you look."

"What about tomorrow, Wednesday, and Saturday?" He swallowed. What if his work prevented him from attending rehearsal? The past two days were torture. How would he endure without seeing Jo again?

Abe headed back for the refrigerator for more breakfast ingredients. "Two of the medical examiners have returned to work, so they gave one of them your work today."

Henry nodded. Drs. Gall and Burke had exhibited the worst of the flu's symptoms almost a week ago. Likely, it was them.

Before he could comment, the bell of the door jingled violently. Henry and Abe looked at each other.

Deciding to trust his knees, Henry pushed himself away from the table. "I'll get it."

As he headed for the door, he reviewed the night. He reached over to where Jo had placed her hand on his side. His chest warmed as he relived their walk home.

When they reached her apartment, he kicked himself. Perhaps he should have knocked on her door and asked if he could come in. Even if they talked into the morning hours, he would have been far stronger than he was now.

The shop's retail space cut through the memory. Henry squared his shoulders and prepared himself to turn away an early customer.

He reached the door, and his heart quickened. The air caught in his throat the moment he spotted the brunette woman standing on the other side.

He gingerly flipped the lock and opened the door. _I__ must be dream__ing still__._

"Jo?"

Jo met his eyes and gave him a smile. "Hey, Henry."

He gestured for her to come inside. She brushed a strand of hair over her ear as she eased past him.

He closed the door and joined her in the middle of the shop. His heart raced as she turned back to him. _No, this i__s__ really happening._

"What brings you here?"

She broke her gaze for a moment. "I—." She inhaled. "Am I interrupting anything?"

He glanced upstairs. "No." He grinned and shoved his sweaty hands in his pockets. "Abe and I were about to have breakfast."

Her eyes begged him for more time with him. He rolled his tongue in his mouth. They had never done it before, at least not at this time of day. Perhaps….

Henry lifted one side of his lips. "Why don't you join us? I'm sure Abe wouldn't mind."

Jo looked into his eyes, and he could feel himself getting as lost in them as he had almost a year and a half ago.

She took a deep breath and blew it out before returning his smile. "Why not?" She nodded upstairs. "Lead the way."

As they wove their way through the antique-filled tables, he glanced back over his shoulder. Energy suddenly surged through his body as though he had just awakened in the river.

He shook his head slightly. How was it possible for her to affect him like this? For her to breathe life into him when he least expected it? To awaken his senses almost as if they had been in a deep sleep?

Remembering what Abe had served him earlier, he wrinkled his nose.

"What?"

They reached the stairwell, and he stepped aside to let her pass. "Don't be surprised if he serves you his hangover cure. He believes our eggnog had alcohol in it."

She took the handrail. He placed his hand on the small of her back. "I might take him up on the offer. I don't know about you, but I had been feeling a little hung over from a lack of sleep last night."

He studied her. Her eyes glowed as she sneaked another peek at him.

He took a deep breath. The last woman to look at him in that manner was Abigail, and that was when….

All of the air left the corridor. Was it possible…?

Noting where they were, he squared his shoulders. If it were true, he would find out soon enough.

* * *

Jo cursed herself as she rolled to yet another stop at a red light. She should have listened to her instinct and taken the subway to Midtown. All of the stop-and-go traffic was going to make her and Henry miss their meeting with Dr. Norbert.

She leaned her head back and grinned. She didn't know whether it was inadvertently finishing the rest of Abe's gross hangover cure in Henry's glass, breakfast with the Morgan men, spending time with Henry, or a combination of all of them, but she was feeling much better than she did this morning.

She turned to Henry and shook her head. With the number of MEs out with the flu, she was beginning to wonder when Henry would be able to join her out in the field again. When he asked her if she wanted him to join her this morning, her spirits soared so high that she thought she would fly out of her chair.

A car horn honked behind her. She glanced at the light and groaned. The cafe was only a few blocks away now. How many more times would she have to stop before she got there?

She pulled away from the intersection and drove under a pair of green lights. She would have celebrated, but Henry's interest in the case nagged at her.

She tightened her grip on the wheel and focused on the cars ahead of her. Was that all that she was to him? Just a friend and a professional partner? After staying with her all through rehearsal, holding her tightly against him, and staring at her as though she was an angel this morning, she could argue that he had viewed her as more than that. Now, though….

Jo felt his eyes on her. As they rolled up to another red light, this time she looked over at him. He searched her face.

"What's wrong?"

She stared ahead to keep herself composed. "Just thinking about the case."

The light changed again. She eased into the left lane as she drove by the trees separating the iconic parade location in Herald Square from the road. Just when she had thought they were going to stop, the light turned green. She inwardly cheered as they rounded the corner and crossed Broadway before reaching another stop.

Jo noted the people standing in front of the historical storefront and admiring the windows. She huffed. She would give anything to be one of them. It would be much better than sitting around all day and wondering about her and Henry's relationship.

The traffic inched forward. She turned her attention back to the road. Maybe she could use one of her free days to come here. If there was one thing that she had learned over the past few years, it was that life was too short and that she needed to do what she wanted before it was too late.

An unusual silence filled the air. She turned back to Henry. His eyebrows drew a line at the bottom of his forehead.

He twisted slightly toward her and swallowed. "About last night…."

Their conversation about the case came flooding back, quickly followed by another round of cursing herself. How many times had he used a case as a distraction from her painful memories? Or as an excuse to be with her? How…?

Her eyes widened. That last thought had never crossed her mind before.

Jo started to say something, but the memories of the rest of the night drowned out her thoughts. The slight chill in the car vanished with each breath.

The traffic lurched forward. She reached over and squeezed his hand. "We'll talk later." To reassure him that she wasn't brushing him off, she nodded toward the moving cars in front of them.

They were silent for a couple of moments. He shifted in his seat. "Is Hanson meeting us at the cafe?"

She cursed herself once again. Why didn't she tell him about her call to Mike while he was changing clothes?

"He's not." She giggled as she noted the slowing cars. "When I told him you were joining us this morning, he made up an excuse about planning to go somewhere with Karen. I…."

"Why do you think he created an excuse?"

Jo turned to him for a second. "Karen was telling him off about lying to me about desk duty in the background."

Henry chuckled. "He wanted us to have some additional time to ourselves."

"It looks like it."

She pulled up to the cafe and parked outside. She inhaled, squared her shoulders, and unlocked her seat belt. If someone wanted to complain about her illegal parking, they could take it up with Lieu.

She and Henry climbed out of the car and strolled up to the cafe's door. Henry grabbed the door and held it for her. She smiled as she eased past him. He didn't have to do that, but it made her feel special.

Once inside, she looked around the bright, almost diner-like dining area for Paul's psychiatrist. She spotted him in a booth toward the back of the restaurant under the TV, just like he had told her.

She directed Henry toward the man. As they walked toward him, she swallowed. After Henry's last encounter with a so-called psychiatrist, would he be comfortable talking to a real one, even if it were for a case?

"Dr. Norbert?"

The doctor dabbed his mouth with his napkin, set it on the empty plate, and pushed the plate back. "Detective Martinez, it's a pleasure to meet you in person." He nodded at Henry. "Is this your partner?"

"My unofficial one." She cringed at her words while she and Henry slid into the seat on the other side of the table. "This is Dr. Henry Morgan, the ME assigned to Paul's death."

Dr. Norbert extended his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

Henry gingerly took it and plastered a smile on his face. "The pleasure is mine."

Dr. Norbert crossed his arms and leaned onto the table. "Do either of you know what happened to Paul? I was stunned when you called to inform me of his death."

Henry shifted his weight in his seat, and his arms moved as though he was wiping his sweaty hands on his pants legs. "We're still waiting on toxicology and forensics, but we believe that Paul was strangled."

Dr. Norbert's jaw fell. "Who could have done that?"

Jo trained her gaze on the psychiatrist. "That's what we want to know. Do you remember who had referred him to you?"

"His ex-girlfriend, actually."

Jo and Henry looked at each other. No one had mentioned that when she and Mike had questioned everyone yesterday.

Jo blinked. "Barbara Eppes?"

Dr. Norbert shook his head. "No, he always spoke fondly about her during his sessions." He looked at each of them. "Marcia Doyle. They dated a few years ago. For a while, the relationship was a happy one. When he mentioned his abuse, she didn't believe him. According to her, he gave her some signals which concerned her, and she contacted my office for a consult."

Out of the corner of Jo's eye, she could see Henry stiffen. She swallowed. _Please don__'t let him think about Nora now. I need him to stay in the present_.

She reached under the table, took his hand, and squeezed it. His hand and his leg went slack. Her skin tingled when he flipped his hand over, squeezed her hand back, and interlaced his fingers between hers.

Jo's heart raced. If he were interested in just being friends and partners, this wouldn't be happening. Maybe….

"H—." Henry cleared his throat. "Had Paul mentioned if there were difficulties in his relationship with Marcia?"

Dr. Norbert tilted his head for a moment. "His family had believed that they were perfect for each other, but, according to Paul, he had discovered that they wanted different things in life. She wanted him to follow her to her new job in upstate New York. He, however, wanted to remain here, in large part because he viewed the city as his hometown."

Jo broke her gaze for a moment. She could see that. While she had dated Isaac, her instinct had warned her they were too different to make a relationship work. Henry's appeal to her romantic nature when she picked his brain about Parisian hot spots convinced her she was dating the wrong man, and his words had given her the courage to break up with Isaac when she had discovered they had vastly different ideas about romance.

Dr. Norbert reached beside him and pulled two books. "If you would like to examine his mental state in greater depth, you can read his journals."

Henry looked at her and back at Dr. Norbert. He untangled his fingers from her hand. "Journals?"

Dr. Norbert held them out to the investigators. "It was a part of his therapy. I suggested that he write down his memories and feelings to process them better. Everything else failed, so I didn't see how it could hurt."

Jo took them and flipped through the pages. "Did it help?"

Dr. Norbert nodded as she passed the books to Henry. "It had. He seemed mentally healthier than when I had first met with him. It wasn't as much as I would have liked, but, with the amount of psychological and mental abuse Paul had suffered since childhood, it was progress."

Jo broke her gaze again and stared at the wall behind the psychiatrist. Something still wasn't right about the case. She didn't want to question Barbara about her relationship with Paul again, but it looked like she would have to.

"How did you obtain these?" Henry's voice wrapped itself around Jo.

Dr. Norbert turned to him. "Paul inadvertently left them in my office during our last session when his boss had called him and informed him of one of his colleagues' sudden leave from work. I had wanted to return them to him the next time I saw him, but…."

Jo studied the other man. As far as she could tell, he had given them everything he knew.

"This helps us a lot." She nudged Henry. "We'll return his journals to you as soon as we can."

Dr. Norbert eyed them as they eased out of the booth. "Let me know if I could be of further assistance. It's a shame that his life had been cut so short. I felt that he held so much promise once he escaped his parents' influence."

Jo agreed. As she and Henry left the diner, he caught her hand again and wove his fingers between hers.

The air suddenly rushed out the open door of the restaurant. Was it possible? Could she really start to think his care for her ran deeper than either of them had thought?

He drew close to her, and the air warmed. If so, was she ready for it?

* * *

Henry swung the door open and held it open for Jo to pass. She eased past him, took a few steps over the threshold, and stopped.

He tilted his head. No potential customers were in sight. Why…?

He felt a tug on his other hand. He glanced down at it in hers. How…?

His eyes widened, and his heart raced in his chest. It was a simple gesture intended to comfort him while they spoke with Dr. Norbert. If he were honest with himself, though, he had no desire to let her go.

He inhaled. If he must….

He released her, and his heart ached as she strolled through the rest of the doorway. He glanced at her car. He briefly considered taking her hand again, but the distance was too short now.

Jo suddenly hurried toward her vehicle. Henry followed her. His mouth fell open at the officer poised over the car, her head bowed over a citation book. The patrol officer's vehicle was parked almost against Jo's bumper.

"Hey!" Jo skidded to a stop and flashed her badge. "That's my car!"

The other woman looked up from her ticket and studied Jo's badge. "Who's your superior?"

Jo blew out some air. "Lt. Reece, 11th Precinct homicide. My partner and I were talking to a witness inside the cafe."

As the other officer radioed it to her supervisor, Henry shoved his free hand into his pocket and hoped that the other wasn't ruining Paul's journals. He stared down the street, puffed out his cheeks, and blew out a breath. Was that all Jo considered him to be? Merely friends and partners? Had he completely misread her actions last night and today, and she still held his attempt to derail her investigation into Blair Dryden's and Xavier deSoto's murders against him?

The patrol officer flipped her book close, returned it to her coat pocket, and locked eyes with Jo. "I'm letting you slide. Don't let it happen again." She nodded at Henry. "It's a good thing your boyfriend's cute. I wouldn't have considered it otherwise."

"We're not…." Henry and Jo's words overlapped each other.

Henry's heart sank. How he wished the situation was different. He would proudly show her how special she was.

The officer climbed into her car and pulled away. Henry and Jo did the same. Henry stuck Paul's journals in the crease between the seats and buckled his seat belt. "I've been meaning to ask you, but how did your interrogation of Boris' killer go?"

Jo brushed her hair back and set her hands on her steering wheel. "About as well as it can for someone who is about as tight-lipped as you were about your past."

He winced as her words stung his heart. During his death in the midst of his and Adam's confrontation, he had vowed that he would atone for his actions if he survived. He had thought that he had been making progress over the past one and a half years, but now….

Jo narrowed her eyes and studied him as they turned back toward Broadway. "Wait, how did you know about Mike's and my interrogation?"

He heaved a sigh. "Lt. Reece informed me of the development the other day when she was on her lunch break."

"I see."

He bowed his head. She must have figured as much.

His stomach wrenched within him. He mentally checked his body for any other symptoms, but there weren't any.

Realizing he needed a distraction from his thoughts, he pulled the journals out from their spot. He flipped through the pages, scanning each one for the date.

"What are you doing?" Jo's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Looking for Paul's most recent entry. Frequently, one leaves a rationale, however rational it really is, closest to the time when they are threatened or disturbed."

Feeling the memory of Abigail's disappearance returning, he turned back to the pages. As he read, his breathing sped up. Paul had regretted breaking off his relationship with Barbara—Babs, as he called her. He had considered asking her for her forgiveness and seeing if she would be willing to start over. He had planned to go over to her apartment in Chelsea the day of his death, but he had never gotten the chance.

Henry looked up at the traffic, but his gaze became unfocused. How many times had he imagined reuniting with Abigail, not knowing that Adam had kidnapped her and scared her into thinking she would lead the psychopath to him? How many times had he imagined one of Erica's former beaus stalking her and forcing her to run, not knowing that, one day, his fear would become reality?

He glanced over at Jo and studied her as she remained focused on the traffic. How many times, even over the past few days, had he imagined walking the streets of Paris with her, taking in the city's culinary delights and the joys of being with each other? How many times this morning had he imagined her joining him for breakfast and dinner here in New York for the remainder of her days?

They slowed to a stop. He suddenly felt a hand enclose around his. He glanced down in time to see her squeezing his hand again.

His racing pulse slowed down, and his breathing became easier. He slumped slightly in his seat as her gentle touch erased his worries.

She removed her hand the moment the light changed. He closed the book and flipped it over. Dr. Norbert had an excellent idea. Writing about his deaths in his journal dulled the anguish that always accompanied them. Perhaps….

Jo's giggle cut though the air. "What are you thinking about?"

Chuckling, Henry bowed his head and put the books back in their slot. "Getting more journals after I finish reading Paul's." He turned to her and smiled. "You know how I use my journals to document my deaths?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

He inhaled. "I should document my emotional and mental pain as well. Nothing that I had done so far has stopped the painful memories and worries from overwhelming me at times. Perhaps it's time for a change of tack."

Jo tilted her head and turned to him. "Who are you, and what have you done with Henry Morgan?"

His heart raced in his chest. "I…."

She locked eyes with him and smiled. All of his desire to turn his attention elsewhere—or to move or speak, for that matter—faded.

She took his hand again. "I'm a little surprised. I'm not used to hearing you talk about living." Seeing the green light, she twisted around to the wheel. "It's good to hear, though."

He blinked. Was he starting to choose life instead of death?

As they drove back to the shop, he thought back to Paul's words. Lucas' and Gloria's advice flowed over them as though they were the harmony. He stared out his window, his elbow sitting against it and his fist propping his chin. Even if he was choosing life, he didn't want to spend this part of it not knowing how Jo felt about him.

Jo pulled up to the shop's door. Henry's heart ached within him. He wished that she didn't have to work today. They could spend the rest of the afternoon reading Paul's journals and discussing theories with each other.

He plucked up the journals, set them in his lap, and unbuckled his seat belt. The familiarity hit him.

He rolled his tongue in his mouth. Perhaps….

He turned to Jo. "Would you be interested in dinner tonight, provided that you are off of work early enough?"

Jo blinked several times and considered his request. She then smiled. "What time do you want me to come back?"

"About seven." Abe should already be at Fawn's residence to pick her up for their date by then.

"Sounds good."

He climbed out of the car. "What cuisine would you like?"

Her eyes roamed his. "Do you know any French recipes?"

He bit his lower lip as he nodded. He knew just the dish.

As he closed her door, he sneaked one last peek at her. She smiled and waved at him. His heart skipped a few beats. Was she…?

He retrieved his keys, and she drove off. Huffing, he turned around to unlock the shop's door. Before he could contemplate courting her, he should find out if she returned his feelings. If his past still haunted her, he had no idea what he would do.

* * *

"You didn't have to go all out tonight."

Jo grinned as Henry eased her chair under the table before strolling back to the island. She couldn't remember when was the last time a man had pulled out her chair for her. She believed it was Sean, but, for the moment, she wasn't sure.

He lifted the coq au vin off of its trivet and twisted back toward her. "I wanted to. It was the least I could do after I had invited you to dinner tonight." He set the plate down between their wine glasses and returned to the island to fetch their noodles and green beans.

"Uh-huh." She knew guys well enough to know when they were trying to impress her. And, if this one believed that he had an advantage in having more practice with hiding his own moves, he was sorely mistaken.

Henry placed the sides on either side of the entree and took his seat in Abe's usual seat. Their feet brushed against each other. Jo's skin tingled, and warm air rolled past her.

She met his eyes, combed her hair back over her ear, and returned his smile. When was the last time they had dinner together? Just the two of them? She couldn't remember.

He flipped his napkin open and spread it out on his lap, calling her back to the moment. "I'm afraid the dishes aren't mine, though." He bowed his head in an attempt to hide his smile. "Abe insisted on preparing the meal for us before he left for his date with Fawn." He finally lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. "His kitchen, his rules." He waved his hands in front of him. "I simply abide by them."

Jo plucked her plate up and helped herself to the food. "I'm sure you've broken them more times than you care to admit."

His lips curled up into a mischievous grin. He folded his arms over the table, leaned over them, and bowed his head again for a moment. "You've caught me, Detective. Occasionally, I do exercise my parental prerogative and commandeer the kitchen for myself against his wishes."

She smiled back at him. "How did that go tonight?"

He pulled his lips taut and squirmed in his seat. She grinned wider as his silence filled the air. Knowing them, father and son likely had an argument about it. When Abe saw Henry wasn't going to give up, he had whacked Henry's fingers with the utensil in his hand before kicking the old man out of the kitchen.

Jo glanced down at her food, ready to comment on how good everything looked and smelled in spite of who made it. The current meal faded, and their breakfast plates came into view.

She stared at the banister leading downstairs. Their conversation this morning echoed back up through the stairwell, sending the butterflies in her stomach into flight.

She reached up, laid her hand on her neck, and huffed. They hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk about last night. Every time the thought had crossed her mind, it had vanished as quickly as Henry's body after a death, or they were interrupted. Maybe she could broach the subject tonight….

"Had I taken too many liberties with you lately?"

Henry's voice jarred Jo out of thoughts, and her head flew up. A strand of hair flopped in her face. She reached up and brushed it back.

He stared at her as if he could read her mind on this matter. "In the headiness of the evening and our breakfast this morning, I wasn't thinking straight. I…."

"No, you haven't. I…."

She snorted, smiled, and shook her head. She propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. She glanced down at his folded hands between them as she gathered her thoughts.

A moment later, she untangled herself and took his hands into hers. She locked eyes with him and grinned.

"I haven't stopped thinking about how incredible it was to be held like that." She happily sighed. "Or about how much I missed you before I turned in for the night. Or about spending the evening with you at the piano."

She watched as his wide eyes and open mouth transformed into a half-closed pair and a smile. He bowed his head for a moment.

He slid his hands out from under hers and enclosed them around hers. "I had quite enjoyed those moments myself."

She bent her head for a second. "To be honest, it feels like we haven't spent a lot of time together. I mean, we both have work, and you've just gotten out of a relationship. You have Abe, and I've been settling into my apartment…."

She huffed. _Did that sound needy?_

Henry wiggled in his seat. "Are you free any time soon?"

Jo opened and closed her mouth several times. "I…."

Lieu's reassurances came back to her. She met his eyes. "Lieu practically ordered Mike and me to go ahead and take tomorrow and Wednesday off. Between our floor hosting a performance and the holiday traffic, she doesn't want us to miss rehearsal."

Jo cocked her head. "Why? What are you thinking about?"

His eyes glowed. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Since Dr. Lippmann had given the six of us carolers from the OCME those days off as well, I was wondering if you would like for us to spend the day together on either date. Just you and me and whatever we decide to do."

Her eyes darted from speck to speck in his. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

He chuckled. "More like asking you if I have your permission to court you."

_Court me?_

Jo's heart raced in her chest. If he was going all Mr. Darcy on her, he was serious.

She locked eyes and grinned. "Of course you can. I would love to."

Her heart pounded in her chest, and her mouth went dry. Did she say what she thought she said?

Needing a distraction, she picked up her fork and speared some green beans. She grimaced as the cold bit her teeth.

She peeked over Henry's shoulder. Sitting between the oven and the refrigerator was the microwave Abe had bought a few weeks ago. If she wanted more time with Henry….

She tracked his gaze as soon as he lowered his fork and snarled at the cold meal. "Had Abe talked you into trying anything out of the microwave yet?"

"He attempted to the same week he purchased it, but I declined his offer. You know how I feel about those things."

Jo pushed herself away from the table, picked up her plate, and motioned for his. His eyebrows arched up.

She looked him in the eye and smiled. "If you want to spend more time with me tonight…."

He glanced back at his plates and back at her. His lips parted into a smile, and he shook his head. The next thing she knew, he picked up his entree and handed it to her.

"Be right back."

As she walked over to the appliance, she peeked back over her shoulder at him. He sat motionless as his arms remained perched on the back of his chair. His eyes traveled up and down her body.

Her cheeks warming, she turned around and laid the plates on the burners. She smiled as she set his in the microwave. If this was what a taste of a relationship with him would look like, she was looking forward to seeing how the rest of it would be.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note**: Hi! I hope you are staying safe and following recommendations to keep others safe and healthy. I'm sorry this is way late in being posted. As mentioned in the Author's Note for another story ("Southern Comfort"), things—including the pandemic—had come up which forced me to take time away from this story. I am truly sorry I overpromised on the frequency of postings when I had started _Tidings of Comfort and Joy_, and I hope you will forgive me. I do plan to complete the story and post the rest of it as soon as I can. Meanwhile, I hope you will enjoy the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Jo leaned against the fire escape's damp railing, laid her arms on it, and peered up at the sky. She swallowed as the clouds followed the flow of the traffic below. What if the rain didn't hold off for the rest of the day? She was looking forward to seeing what Henry had planned for their date, and it would be a shame if they had to do something else on account of the weather.

The call to Marcia and Marcia's comments about her ability to provide Paul with a far better and, in her opinion, more mentally stable life than what Barbara could ever have given him tumbled around in Jo's mind. She stared down at her feet resting comfortably on the iron-wrought grated surface. If she and Henry continued their courtship and decided to get married, what could she possibly offer him? She wasn't as knowledgeable about the world or as well-traveled as he was. She hadn't had as many adventures as he had. Although Sean had tried his best to give her a comfortable life, she wasn't used to the luxuries which Henry treated himself and his family to. She was lucky when he had pulled himself out of his flashbacks yesterday, but she definitely didn't know how she would handle it if he ever became stuck in a painful memory. They worked great together as partners, and she always enjoyed his company. Maybe, though, they were more different than she had realized. Maybe it would have been better if….

She huffed. "Martinez, get a grip on yourself. This is a date, not the day before your wedding to Henry. Sit back and enjoy today."

She took a deep breath, slapped her hands on the cold rail, and turned her attention back to the street. Sneaking a peek at the sidewalk, she smiled. Maybe she should just stay here and let him play Romeo to her Juliet. Every time she had watched her favorite sitcoms' characters rehearse and perform the balcony scene on TV, she had fantasized about it happening to her for days afterward. Now, since she had the chance to do it as an adult and in real life….

She craned her neck and spied the shop. Henry should be here any minute now. He had promised a long day, and she was eager to get started.

"But soft, what light from yonder window breaks?"

She jumped and twisted toward the dulcet voice which had risen over the traffic. Henry stood on the sidewalk directly below her fire escape, his hands in his pockets and a huge lopsided grin on his face.

Jo grinned back at him. "Don't even think about climbing up the fire escape." It wouldn't do him any good anyway. The ladder had been drawn to the top of the building's threshold after its scheduled maintenance the month before she had moved in. "I'll be right down."

She stepped over the window's ledge, making sure that her knee-high boots didn't become stuck between the grates or scrape against the latch. Once inside, she shut the window, checked her white scarf, skinny jeans, and black coat for stains, and pressed the wrinkles out of them. She sauntered over to the mirror in the foyer to check her appearance. Satisfied, she grabbed her cell phone, wallet, and keys off the table, stowed them in her coat pockets, and headed out the door.

She raced through her hallway and down the stairs. On the last flight, she slowed until she stopped at the door. She took a deep breath. _Here goes._

Jo grasped the handle and nervously twisted it. When she pulled the door toward her, the sight of Henry patiently waiting for her on the other side of the gate took her breath away.

"Hey there." She shut the door behind her and strolled over to him. "I didn't see you come up."

"I, um…." He dipped his head for a moment. "I felt I needed a quick walk around the block this morning to clear my head. I attempted to read more of Paul's journals last night after you had left, and…."

Hearing the fry in Marcia's voice again, Jo's stomach lurched inside her. She reached over and laid a finger over his lips. Their softness tempted her to forget anything but them.

Feeling herself becoming more distracted by the minute, she urged herself to look up. She locked eyes with Henry, and the corner of her lips lifted up.

"We can discuss the case tomorrow. I believe we have something else to do today?"

He lowered his head again while she dropped her arm to her side. She couldn't help but to notice an uncharacteristic tinge of pink in his cheeks. Her own began to feel warm. Did she do that to him?

"You're quite right. We do." He reached over and opened the gate for her. She eased between it and him. "Shall we?"

She slid up to his side, watching him secure her apartment's entrance. "Where are you taking me?"

He flashed her another lop-sided grin. "You'll see."

She returned his smile. "What? No hints? Not even one? This isn't like you." He hadn't been this secretive even when he had hidden his condition from her.

With a bigger grin and the slightest nod, Henry guided her to the edge of the sidewalk and raised his hand for the cab. Seconds later, one rolled up to them. He tilted his head to peek at the driver. The other man swerved around and rested his arm on the opposite headrest. Jo blew out a sigh of relief once she noticed that their driver wasn't Adam.

Henry stepped aside, letting Jo slide in the back seat. As she wiggled into the middle section, Henry swung into the cab beside her.

"Where to?"

"To the New Way Deli on Catherine and Cherry." Henry shut the door and fastened his seat belt. Jo cursed herself about forgetting about it and followed his lead.

The other man nodded. "Breakfast date this morning?"

Henry snuggled against Jo and wrapped his arm around her. "You could say that."

Jo searched his eyes. He had hinted at more last night when they had discussed who was planning the date for which day. Judging from how he had treated both Molly Dawes and Erica, Jo would guess it was something romantic.

Her jaw clenched at the thought of the two women. She willed herself to forget about them. Henry had chosen to spend this time with her, and she shouldn't let them ruin the day.

Before she could unlock her jaw, he peered out the windshield at the passing traffic flowing between them and the shop. His eyebrows knitted together as the fear in his eyes drained the color out of his face.

Jo's heart twisted inside her. Henry had avoided taking taxis since Adam had drowned him in one two Christmases ago, and not even Erica could talk him into riding in one after the group's karaoke nights. If Jo were to guess why the sudden courage, she would say that Abe must have convinced his father to hail one for them before Henry had left the shop.

Hoping she wasn't sending mixed signals, Jo walked a hand onto Henry's knee. He slowly blinked until the glaze in them dissolved. He smiled at her before gently resting his free hand on hers, turning it over, and intertwining his fingers between hers.

"How long have you two been together?" The driver's lyrical voice flowed over the traffic as he rolled through the intersection.

Jo jerked slightly at the voice. She glimpsed at the driver, who peered back at her in his rearview mirror.

She met Henry's eyes and grinned before focusing her attention back on the other man. "Not long. We've just started dating."

"Could've had me fooled." The driver slowed to a stop before turning onto Rivington. "From the way you act around each other, I thought you've been together for years."

Jo exchanged looks with Henry. What would make him think that way?

"Did anyone tell you that you act like a couple before?"

Jo bit back her giggle. "Yes." At the same time, Henry echoed her response.

Henry tilted his head. "My roommate has a bit of a habit of matchmaking when it comes to us."

Jo's heart wrenched in her. How many times had he and Abe been unable to acknowledge their true relationship with each other? How many times would she be asked to lie for them if things became serious between her and the older Morgan? How many times…?

The car turned onto Essex. Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she reminded herself of the question. "Our colleagues have mentioned it a time or two."

Her lips parted in a slight laugh. Lucas had mentioned that he had been shipping her and Henry for a while when they had found Abigail's bones. As for Mike, when Henry had dated Erica, Mike had once suggested that Jo was jealous of the two immortals' relationship. She had dismissed it at the time, but, after hearing jealousy enter Marcia's voice while mentioning Barbara yesterday, Jo was beginning to wonder if her official partner was right.

Henry bowed his head, his lips trying to not curl into a sneer. "My professional rival has said a couple of rather unpleasant things about the time I spend with her."

Jo swallowed her groan. Dr. Washington had better not ruined their date by occupying their thoughts. As much as she didn't like to use violence unnecessarily, she might punch him tonight if he did.

Remembering Nadia's presence at the piano, Jo pushed back her jealousy at the uni. "One of my colleagues tried to stake a claim on him the other night." Nadia had apologized, though, and the seasoned detective shouldn't think anything of it.

Henry met her eyes and gaped. "Who did?"

"You didn't notice Nadia's attempt at flirting with you?"

He shook his head. "My focus was on the songs I had selected. I doubt I heard her come up to me and attempt to engage me in conversation."

Her eyes roamed his face. As incredible as it sounded, Jo had to believe him. She had lost count of how many times she had had trouble snapping him out of whatever idea was in his head at the moment.

She felt her lips tugging up into another smile. If she had any remaining doubts about how much he missed her that night, they were gone now.

The car slowed as they approached a patrol car parked across from the Essex Market. Speaking of unis….

She scoffed. "A patrol officer who almost gave me a ticket the other day thought we were together."

Their driver's eyebrows shot up as he sped up again. "You got pulled over?"

"I was illegally parked." A giggle escaped at the memory. She willed herself to not mention the circumstances to the other man and nodded toward Henry. "He helped me talk her out of it."

She leaned back in her seat, making sure that Henry could still move his arm if he needed to. "There's a nurse who mistook us for the parents of an infant we were babysitting." Even if they had scrambled to tell her that they weren't together, Jo had to admit that she had enjoyed the idea while they took care of Armen Aronov's grandson.

Henry wrinkled his eyebrows as he smiled. "Also, for some reason that I have yet to understand, two of my exes had assumed that Jo and I were together."

Jo's eyebrows shot up. _Erica thought what?!_

She looked over his shoulder at the passing stores and buildings. That couldn't be right. Sure, he once had admitted that he had cared deeply about her. At the time, though, she had ignored it because she was ticked off at him for going as far as he had during his search for Adam's _pugio_. After that, he hadn't said a word about his comment, and she was sure that he had completely forgotten all about it.

"Oh, man." The driver chuckled. "I would've hated to have been you. Both of them thinking you were cheating on them with another woman. That's bad."

In the reflection in the window, Jo saw Henry turn his head and grimace. Her heart sped up. Was it true? Was there a chance that he still had feelings for her? Even while he dated another woman?

His gaze caught hers, and his expression softened. She squeezed his hand and hoped that he would see it as her way of letting him know that she didn't think of it as cheating _per se_. To her surprise, he squeezed her hand back before shifting his weight around to face the driver again.

The taxi driver moved over into the left lane and joined the traffic crossing Grand. The morning sun streamed from behind the apartment complexes beside them.

She rotated her head so that the bright light wouldn't blind her. It landed on Henry's face, illuminating him like the street lights had….

Her stomach growled. She glanced down at it. Why did it have to interrupt the moment?

She looked back at her boyfriend. Maybe they could have another moment to themselves at breakfast. They could use it.

* * *

Her stomach full, Jo took a look at the playground as Henry pulled her closer to him. Breakfast was delicious, but….

She caught his eyes. "Why did you bring me here? We don't have kids."

He gave her a lopsided smile. "This isn't where I wanted to take you. Do you trust me?"

She nodded. She trusted him with her life. How could she not trust him in this?

Henry took Jo's hand and guided her through the park and across the next street. He leaned over until their heads almost touched.

"Do you care to see another part of my past?"

Smiling, she nodded. "You know I'm interested."

They crossed South Street and walked under the bridge. Her eyes widened as they approached the East River Bikeway's rails. How was this place connected to him? It looked too modern for him to have been here years ago.

When they found a long empty patch of bike path, Henry's eyes grew very distant. He released her hand, rested his arms on the rail, wove his fingers together, leaned forward, and peered out toward the river.

After a few quiet moments, he finally took notice of their surroundings. He faced her again, but it seemed like his mind was elsewhere.

"In the 1700s and early 1800s," his low voice started, "this part of Manhattan was an active seaport." He twisted around and moved his finger along the traffic in the distance. "The river's shoreline stopped just beyond the bridge. You can't tell it now because the city had filled it in a few years after my second arrival in the city."

Jo tilted her head. "Second arrival?" He had mentioned coming to New York in 1890, but she had always assumed that he hadn't seen the city before then.

Ignoring her question, he pivoted toward another part of the path. A grin slowly crossed his face. "Morgan Shipping had a dock here at Catherine Slip. According to Grandfather, his father had favored it because of its proximity to Catherine Market…."

He found a spot across the road and headed toward it, coming to himself long enough to check the traffic. Smiling and shaking her head, Jo pushed herself away from the rail and followed him. He was so deep in his past that he had forgotten she was there.

He stopped at a bench in the tiny park between the playground and the road and looked around at the sparse greenery. She joined his side and laid her hand on his shoulder. He twisted around and spotted her.

She met his unfocused eyes. "I thought you had bad feelings toward your family's company." Considering his father's hypocritical involvement in the slave trade, she couldn't blame him.

The glaze left Henry's face. He bowed his head for a moment.

"I do." He lifted his head. "I still do." He lowered his eyes, and a smile played on his lips. "That doesn't mean the foundation of the company wasn't based on far nobler intentions."

"Like survival, right?" That's what her father had claimed when she had challenged him about their break-ins.

Henry removed his hand from his pocket and wrapped it around her waist. "Survival, yes. But also love, honor, and family."

He studied her for a moment. His eyes then crinkled, and he gave her a lopsided smile.

"Perhaps I should explain my apparent sudden fondness for what I had set out to destroy?"

"Yes. Please do." To pardon the pun, she was dying to know.

He smiled at her. "When I was 17, I was restless and quite unenthused about leaving my family and London behind for Oxford. Grandfather saw my reluctance to continue my studies, and he suggested that I should delay my attendance and accompany him on a business trip to New York. Looking for an adventure, I jumped at the opportunity."

He grew quiet for a moment. "After a nearly month-long journey, we arrived in port." He nodded at the ground. "Imagine a lad disembarking right where we are standing and, upon emerging from the sea of ships, taking in the sight of Manhattan's then-tallest buildings as they peeked out from the tree heights and enticed him to explore their every nook and cranny."

Jo closed her eyes and tried to picture it, but she couldn't. She swallowed back her huff. What she wouldn't give to be immortal and to have lived during that time.

Sensing Henry had more to tell her, she opened her eyes. "What about the rest of Manhattan? What did it look like?"

He pulled her tightly against him. "Do you remember what Jouy-en-Josas looked like when we went to our suspect's house while in Paris?"

Jo nodded. "I still can't get over how rural it was."

He bowed his head and smiled. "Well, this part of Manhattan and what is now the Lower East Side were much the same way. A house here, a farm there. Many of the cobblestone streets crossed empty fields, the new blocks waiting for their future occupants…."

Henry turned his head toward the Financial District. "Sometimes it's difficult to believe that it's been over 200 years since I had first visited this city. It feels as though very little time has passed for me."

Jo separated herself from him, lowered her head, and crossed her arms over her chest. She loved his stories about the past, but this one felt too personal. It was almost like he was introducing her to the rest of his family.

"Does Erica know about this place?" It was a fair question. She and Henry had been pretty serious before her ex had stumbled onto her whereabouts. Like discussing engagements and marriage serious.

Jo looked up in time to see him turn to her. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped closer to her.

He dipped his head before meeting her eyes. "No, she doesn't." He huffed. "As much as we enjoyed reminiscing about and engaging in our favorite diversions from our mortal and early immortal lives, she hesitated to know anything beyond what I had told her when we both learned about the other's condition. She believed that my dwelling on my past merely added to my pain." He bowed his head again and scoffed. "In case you are curious, Abigail and Abe had asked about that period in my life, but, to be honest with you, it had pained me to share it with them at the time. I could barely mention it without the memories and my grief overwhelming me until recently."

Henry looked back up at Jo, and his left side of his lips lifted up to the sky. "You've always seemed interested in my stories and in my past since we had met. I thought that you would take pleasure in sharing this memory with me."

Her eyes roamed his. Was it possible? Did he see her as an equal? As someone he could spend a part of his life with? Like he had with Abigail?

A bicyclist whizzed past them. Shaking herself out of her daze, Jo nudged Henry back toward the bike path. "How did you remember this place?"

He grinned, shoved one hand into his pocket, and wrapped his free arm around her. "To be honest, Paul's journals summoned the memory and several others from oblivion's abyss. That's why I needed my walk around the block this morning. I was certain that you would've thought a tour of my past would be somewhat egotistical for a date. When I saw the expression on your face after we left the deli…."

_He knows me well_. Jo grinned back at him. "Where are we going to after this?"

He peered back at her. "Do you want a hint?"

Smiling, she tapped him on his chest. "Considering you gave me none about this place, yes."

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and thought for a moment. "Where can you go in Manhattan to visit an European-style market at this time of year?"

Jo's eyes widened. They weren't going there, were they? How did he know that she…?

Henry guided her back toward the bike path, leaning over her shoulder to tell her about the people who had once occupied the former docks. Her heart raced in her chest, making her feel giddy. She had no idea how one of her desires intersected with his life, but she was interested in finding out.

* * *

Jo pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail for a moment and breathed a sigh into the chilly air. If it didn't hurt so much, she would pinch herself to see if she was dreaming.

Dropping her hands, she peered at the lines of glass booths which occupied the courtyard between the park and the library. It was hard to believe that, just weeks ago, tables and chairs had been scattered along the sidewalks surrounding the grass, causing the park to resemble a Parisian cafe no matter where they walked. Now, with the shops and the Christmas tree separating them from the skating rink, Bryant Park had been transformed into a winter wonderland.

"_...It's not the Christmas markets in Germany, but, to be honest, Bryant Park's winter village comes close in atmosphere…."_

Jo eased around the statute of the park's namesake , hopped down the granite steps, and started for the bench they had claimed. Henry didn't have to try to impress her with fancy trips and luxurious gifts. He had no idea how much bringing her here meant to her.

Grinning, she shook her head at the sight of him munching on his half-pretzel, half-croissant while dressed in his three-piece suit, new red scarf, and coat. Just like he had with the microwaved food last night, he had guardedly tried her choice for a treat before deciding that he liked it. At the rate she was going, she might inadvertently turn him into a modern man by the time caroling was over.

A young boy, maybe no more than three years old, and his mother from the table beside them walked in front of Henry and suddenly stopped. Henry lowered his snack onto the seat next to him and eyed the boy. After a moment of Sherlocking, he dropped himself onto the ground. The boy warily looked up at his mother as Henry mouthed something to the woman. The mother nodded and positioned herself behind her son, who grabbed her waist and tucked his head between his arms. Henry reached for the boy's shoe and took the laces in his hands proceeded to tie it. The boy removed his head from its spot and studied Henry's movements. Once he was finished, Henry smiled at the child and his mother. The mother muttered something, and she escorted the boy toward the shops.

Jo stopped, leaned against the arch, and crossed her arms. Was this how he would be with their children if they were to eventually get married? Being a loving father who doted on the kids more often than not? Patiently helping them with their homework and telling them something that wasn't covered in their classes? Giving into his upbringing only when he wanted their son or daughter to learn the importance of culture or to scold them when they had done something wrong? Worrying over them when they were ill, injured, or in trouble? Reassuring her that he would watch over them if something were to happen to her?

She blinked several times as she uncrossed her arms. How was it possible for "the weirdest, creepiest, most unusual man" she had ever met to be someone she could imagine spending the rest of her life with?

A couple walking hand-in-hand bumped against her. She watched them as they turned down a lane and disappeared into the closest shop, oblivious to their obstacle.

Deciding that they didn't mean anything by it, Jo set off again for her and Henry's bench. A few steps later, she slid back into her seat as he polished off his last bite of cretzel. Oblivious to her presence, he gathered their trash and quickly disposed it into a trash can near the closest shop.

As he walked back, he spotted her and quickened his pace. He grinned at her. "Are you ready for more browsing?"

She pushed herself up and joined him. "How much time do we have?"

He fished his pocket watch out and quickly glanced at it. "We still have five hours." His warm brown eyes roamed her face. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I am." She snuggled against him and pulled him tighter against her body. "I haven't enjoyed myself this much since…."

She wracked her mind for the last time she had felt this way. She chuckled. "Honestly, I don't remember when. It must have been back when I was in college."

Henry studied her. "Not even when Sean was alive?"

Jo shook her head. "I might have. Right now, I can't even think of any moments we had like this."

Her eyes traced a path along the speckles in Henry's. How was it possible for him to make her feel this way?

His eyes drifted to her lips and back to her eyes. The tinge of pink returned to his cheeks.

A haze formed in Jo's mind. Was he…?

The conversations flowed from the shops and wormed their way into her ears. She reluctantly broke her gaze and reoriented herself back to reality.

She huffed. It might be for the best. The last time either of them had attempted something romantic, they had one very uncomfortable—and, weirdly, one very well-timed—interruption.

"Where to next?"

Jo met Henry's eyes again. She thought for a moment and looked at the Christmas tree. Music coming from the direction of the skating rink filtered over the conversations.

She bit her lower lip. She hadn't done it since….

She turned to him. "How are your skating skills?"

His eyes glazed over for a second. "Pretty good, I believe. I haven't been since Abigail, Abe, and I had lived in the Netherlands."

She bit back her laughter. "You might be a little rusty at it, huh?"

Before he could object, she placed her finger on his lips again and locked eyes with him. "You're with me, remember? You don't need to impress me."

He gave her a lopsided smile and guided her toward the first intersection. "Shall we?"

As they headed off for the rink, she peeked at him. How was it possible for him to make one of her dreams come true? Maybe more than one.

She surveyed the holiday market. If this was a dream, she didn't want to wake up.

The first soothing notes of "Silent Night" filled the air of the pop-up restaurant. Jo closed her eyes and hummed along with the familiar song. She imagined a world where there was no more crime and fighting. No more girlfriends—or wives, for that matter—thinking the men in their lives were insane because the women didn't want to believe the truth about their significant others' pasts. No more secrets hidden from everyone. A world where mortals and immortals could live in peace. A world where she and Henry….

Henry remained quiet. She reluctantly decided to open her eyes. He leaned back in his seat, narrowing his eyebrows at the DJ and several people gathering in front of the booth. His eyes contained the same distant look in them that he always got when he searched for a memory of something in the past.

She swallowed. She knew him well enough to know when he was confused.

A moment later, he untangled his arm from around her, slid his hand into his pocket, and pulled out his watch. She started to ask him what was wrong when the group began to sing.

Her heart raced as Candy's song selection for the second performance echoed in her head. She cursed herself. They had been so careful while they were exploring the Christmas market. How did they lose all track of time?

She jumped off the sofa, snatched her coat from the cushions, and slipped it on. She glanced over at Henry, who was uncharacteristically doing the same.

"How much time do we have left before we have to be at Candy's?" She bent over and yanked her scarf from beside her seat.

Henry gulped. "Almost twenty minutes. If the train doesn't experience many delays, I think we can make it in time."

Jo's heart started to release its grip on her lungs. Twenty minutes. They could do that.

As they stepped away from the sofa, Jo took one last look out the restaurant's glass walls. Below her, skaters twirled and glided on the man-made pond. The lights from the market's glass and plastic booths outlined the borders of the village. The tree's multitude of lights danced along the glass, transforming the entire park into a nighttime winter wonderland.

She inhaled. She loved being with their caroling group, but she didn't want to leave now. If she went back to reality, she didn't know when she would get another day like this again.

Henry's hand caressed the small of Jo's back. Her muscles relaxed as he guided her toward the door. Then again, he was there with her. And that was almost all that mattered.

_**Twenty-Eight Minutes Later**__**…**_

Jo bent over, laid her hands on her knees, and took several deep breaths. The last time that she had run like that, she had been chasing a suspect—while in regular high heels and a dress—last month.

She lifted her head. Henry stood beside her, appearing as though he had casually walked the entire way there from Bryant Park.

She narrowed her eyes as she straightened her back. How on Earth could he not be exhausted? What other superpowers did fate or the universe or whoever give him the day he became immortal?

"_Angels we have heard on high,_

_Singing sweetly o__'er the plains…."_

Jo gulped as her and Henry's eyes met. "How are we going to explain this?"

Henry's Adam's apple bobbed. "The only way I know how." He inhaled and squared his shoulders. "We tell them the truth."

She nodded. "The truth. Gotcha."

Her stomach churned once his plan registered in her mind. She studied him. How much of the truth was he interested in telling? If it were the full story, they would be the subject of precinct gossip for months.

Remembering her shame about hiding the details of her past from everyone and Henry's shame and guilt of keeping his immortality a secret from her, Jo took a deep breath. They would have to tell everyone about it sooner or later. Better to get this over with now than to….

"_Glo-o-o-o o-o-o-o-ri-a__…._"

Henry reached over and tucked his hand on the small of her back. Feeling his hand's warmth through her coat, she took a deep breath and gathered her courage.

She placed her hand on the door handle. _Here goes_.

She opened the door, slipped off her coat and scarf, and laid them on top of the others. Her eyes landed on Mike and Lucas flanking the piano. Mike raised his eyebrow while Lucas widened his eyes. She shot them a look which she hoped warned them to not ask her and Henry any questions.

She felt Dr. Washington's gaze on them, and she could imagine his smirk. She squared her shoulders. If he wanted to make a comment….

The music suddenly stopped. Everyone else fell silent and turned to them. Jo offered them what she hoped was an apologetic smile.

"Sorry we're late." Henry's dulcet voice and soothing British lilt washed over her almost as if it could absolve her guilt. "We spent the day in Midtown, and the train had a pair of delays because of the increased holiday traffic. We had begun to wonder if we would ever make it."

Henry's hand found its spot on her back. Jo glanced at him and smiled. He had no idea how much she appreciated him not going into detail about their day.

Candy smiled at them. "You didn't miss that much. We were restarting our first song."

"Have you heard back from the people you've contacted about the performances?" They didn't have much time left before the first one.

Candy shook her head. "Nothing yet. I've already started calling more people to see if anyone would be interested in hearing us. If I don't hear from anyone by Wednesday, I'm going to my landlord about a performance for my neighbors."

As she eased between the wall and Nadia and Rachel, Jo nodded to hide her teeth resting on her lower lip. Since they had started, she could see them singing in a cathedral or—in her wildest dreams—at Lincoln Center. It would be a shame if they couldn't share their hard work with the world.

She took a place beside Lucas. He lowered his song packet and tilted his head toward her. "You're glowing. You two enjoyed your date today?"

Her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. How on Earth did he deduce that?

She recovered her voice and schooled her features as best as she could. "It's none of your business. As far as you know, we could've been questioning suspects in our case."

"Questioning suspects, my foot." Mike piped up. "You're dressed way too casually for that." He leaned against the piano. "I bet you and Doc…."

Jo tilted her head at him. Had he and Lucas been taking lessons in Sherlocking from Henry?

"Mike." She hoped her voice was as stern as she thought it was. "I don't want to talk about it."

She turned and glared at Dr. Washington. He had better not join them. There was no way he would let Henry live down his tardiness.

Across the piano, Henry caught her eye. She smiled at him. Some secrets were worth keeping.

"Guys." Candy barked at the group and shocked Jo out of a growing mental haze. "Can we get back to the singing?" Her look softened, and she turned to Jo. "Do you and Henry need a packet?"

Jo went through the selections and shook her head. "I'm good."

"I think I know them." Henry chimed in.

Jo sneaked a peek at Henry. How many tonight's carols had he belted out during his first time caroling ages ago?

Candy surveyed the group. "Let's take it from the top."

"_Angels we have heard on high…."_

As they started singing, Jo squared her shoulders and concentrated on the song. If she were to admit it to herself, she would swear that, throughout the day, she had fallen in love with Henry. But it was best if the rest of the group didn't know that. Not until she knew he reciprocated her feelings.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm taking a little liberty with Henry's and Morgan Shipping's history. The information comes from Jarrett A. Lobell's "The Hidden History of New York's Harbor" in the November/December 2010 issue of _Archaeology Archive_, Jason Urbanus' "New York's Original Seaport" in the September/October issue of _Archaeology Archive,_ Kelli Trapnell's "History of NYC Streets: The Secrets of the Slips in Lower Manhattan" on Untapped New York's web site, page 662/770 of "The iconography of Manhattan Island, 1498-1909" in the Internet Archives, and "Plan of the city of New York" on the Library of Congress' web site. Henry visiting New York as a teenager is a head canon of mine. Whether I include it depends on whether it fits the story.

Information about the New York Public Library during the Great Depression is from Wikipedia. Details about the Bryant Park Winter Village are from Jessica Levi's "Winter Village at Bryant Park: Days, Hours and Events" on New Yorker Tips' web site, Nell Casey's "Bryant Park's Winter Village Is Now Full Of Delicious Comfort Food" on Gothamist's web site, "Give Thanks at Bryant Park this Thursday" on Bryant Park Blog, "The Holiday Shops at Bryant Park" on Big Time City: New York's web site, and "How Bryant Park Goes from Grassy Lawn to Magical Winter Village" on Bryant Park Blog. Celsius, the pop-up restaurant in Bryant Park, had an active web site that is now archived on Internet Archive Wayback Machine. To access the site, type in in the search box and select December 19, 2016, at 07:56:24. The Virtual Tour link does not work, but OmniSightInc has an excellent virtual tour of Celsius.

I literally counted how long you're supposed to hold the note for the chorus of "Angels We Have Heard on High". You should have seen me as I counted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note**: I wasn't anticipating this chapter at all, but the characters talked me into it. XD When I was writing the second half, I decided it was best if I split it off from what was this chapter. (You'll see why when you read it.) I hope you will enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Jo leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, her eyes traveling along the gold and silver tinsel and the small strands of lights running along the tops of the blinds and thresholds lining the bullpen. She huffed. In one and a half weeks, she and the rest of the caroling group would be singing in front of all of their colleagues. Candy and her unearthly ear for music had whipped the rest of the group, with the exceptions of Henry and Mike, into excellent shape to perform. The seasoned detective, however….

Shaking her head, Jo spun around, gathered the small batch of papers on her desk in her hands, and slipped them in her folder. Every time that she had questioned her abilities during their last rehearsal, Candy, Mike, Lucas, and Henry would reassure her that she was doing well. Candy, however, could be mistaken for an elementary school teacher if someone didn't know the sergeant. Mike and Lucas were her friends. And Henry had a natural bias toward her which blinded him to not just how off-key she had been but also how many flaws she had, period. None of them would tell her what she needed to hear to guarantee she didn't mess everyone up.

She leaned forward and rapped her fingers on the desk. Going to see the holiday windows could wait until later in the season. Maybe she should cancel her and Henry's date tomorrow. She could use the spare time to concentrate on her singing. Maybe, with some extra practice, she would get better.

Henry appeared in the threshold and sauntered toward her desk, toting another manila folder in his hand. Jo's heart sank into her stomach. She would hate to bail on him for something stupid. Maybe she could practice when she had some free time.

"Detective." Jo's heart leaped in her chest at his nickname for her and at his lopsided grin. "Are you ready to present our findings to Lt. Reece?"

Jo snorted. "I'm ready as I'll ever be." She pushed herself out of the chair, snatched the folder off of her desk, and joined Henry's side.

Henry waved the folder in the air. "Toxicology came back on Paul."

Jo craned her neck, hoping to catch a quick peek of a portion of Henry's findings. "And?"

Before he could respond, she spotted Mike talking to Bert near the bullpen's printer, holding a cup of coffee in his hand. "Mike?"

Mike twisted his head around and locked eyes with her. "What?"

"Ready to talk to Lieu?"

"Give me a minute to finish my coffee." He guzzled the rest of his drink and tossed the foam cup in the nearby trash can.

Mike wiped his mouth on his rolled-up sleeve and joined the pair. When they reached Lieu's door, Henry stepped back and nodded for Jo to enter. The air between them tickled her bare forearms as she eased past him. She peeked over her shoulder and flashed him a grin. What she wouldn't do to keep this feeling for the rest of her life.

Lieu's papers shuffling in the background crossed the room. Jo broke her gaze, and she turned pivoted toward her boss. Lieu looked up and beckoned them to come in.

Jo flipped the folder over in her hand, glimpsed at it, and pulled her lips together. It wasn't wrapped up in as timely of a fashion as she would have liked, but at least the investigation into Boris Farley's murder was finally over.

She swallowed and marched over to Lieu's desk. She wished that Lieu had never volunteered the bullpen for one of Candy's performances. There were probably other superiors who would have loved to hear them sing. Why on Earth….?

Jo could feel Lieu's eyes boring into her. She squared her shoulders and plastered a smile on her face. All of this would have been easier if she hadn't caught a look of the date on her phone this morning.

"What do you have?" Lieu closed the folder on her desk and straightened her posture.

Jo glanced at the folder one last time and handed it to her superior. "Both our final report of the Boris Farley investigation and some new findings into Paul Magruder's murder."

Lieu opened the folder. As she flipped through the report, Jo resisted the urge to swallow. _Please don__'t let Lieu notice that something is off in Boris' toxicology report. Lt. Roarke was suspicious about how quickly we learned __that __Hans Koehler used aconite to poison the engineer in the Lincoln Center Station crash. At the time, I didn't know how Henry got those results so fast. Hey, I didn't even know how he survived the crash or his gunshot wound and fall from Grand Central's roof. This time, though…._

Lieu's eyebrows slightly quirked up when she reached Henry's findings. Jo gave into temptation and gulped down the large lump in her throat. Lieu always claimed that she knew everything that went on in her precinct. Was it possible that she knew about Henry's immortality too? If so…?

Lieu turned the page and continued reading. Jo urged herself to breathe. _Just wait after Lieu lets you leave her office. You can worry about what to do if Henry needs to move again to keep himself and Abe safe from rogue government agents or scientists then. Right now, concentrate on your latest case._

The older woman glanced at the last page before turning her focus back on the group. "Everything seems to be in order." She shut the folder, set it on the desk, leaned forward, and folded her hands in front of her. "What did you find new in Paul's murder?"

Henry stepped forward and gave her his folder. "I received the toxicology report on Paul this morning." He moved his hands behind his back, and Jo could imagine him linking them together as though he were back in the Army or the Regency era. "Based on our conversations with Dr. Norbert and the neighbor who had found Paul, I was somewhat perplexed at the results, especially with Paul's broken hyoid bone."

Jo twisted toward him. Her eyes widened, and her eyebrows shot up. It was rarely like Henry to be confused by a finding.

"Benzodiazepines?" Lieu's voice called Jo back to attention.

"May I?" Jo held out her hand for the report.

Lieu turned over the pages to her. As Jo read it, her mouth fell open. No wonder he was confused.

She passed the pages back to her boss. "Dr. Norbert told us that psychiatric medicines had failed to help Paul. Where could Paul have gotten enough to kill him?"

Mike uncrossed his arms and waved a hand in front of him. "Doc, are you sure that Paul wasn't…?"

Henry pivoted toward the other detective. He shook his head. "As far as I know, Paul had no desire to harm himself. If so, he would have noted it in his journals. His last entry had mentioned his plans to reconcile with Barbara and his hopes for them to, one day, marry and start a new life together in Tribeca or in Park Slope."

Mike took a step forward. "I don't know. What if he went to her place before he died, and she rejected his offer to even talk? He could have found a hidden stash of medicine somewhere, took some…."

Jo bent her head and studied her official partner's shoes. She bit her lower lip. That very well could be possible, and it could explain why Barbara had almost collapsed from shock when they had broken the news about Paul's death.

She looked back up in time to see Henry lock eyes with Mike. "The dose was too low to be even therapeutic. Either he would have last taken it two weeks before, or he had taken a far smaller dose than was recommended."

Jo's mind started piecing things together. Her knees threatened to give way on her. Hoping she could make it before anyone noticed something was wrong, she grabbed the back of the chair to support herself.

"What if he was drugged before he was killed?" She was surprised at how strong her voice was, given that the memories of their investigation into Sean's murder had briefly flashed before her eyes. "His killer could have excused himself to use the bathroom, found the medicine in Paul's medicine cabinet, took a dose out, slipped it in Paul's drink, and returned later to kill him."

Henry spun toward her. "I had considered that possibility myself. I, however, assumed that Paul had discarded the medication once Dr. Norbert had weaned him off of it. CSU made no mention of any prescription medications in their report."

Jo slightly tilted her head. Was his knowledge from experience with another drug, or was that something from his more modern medical training?

Feeling stronger, she released her hand from the chair and turned back to Lieu. "I think we need to search Paul's apartment and see if we can find what he took. Maybe CSU overlooked it when they processed the scene."

"Also," Henry's British lilt interrupted her thoughts. "I would like an extra pair of eyes to read over Paul's journals to see if I had missed something. Admittedly, I had skipped over some passages as they struck too close to home for me…."

Jo's heart ached within her. What was in Paul's journals that would cause Henry to rush through his role in the investigation?

She met his eyes. "What time do you want me to come over?" If it were early enough, she could spend some extra time with him after they were done.

"How about six? Abe has a date with Fawn tonight, and he wants to leave the shop early to spend more time with her."

"Six sounds good." Maybe, if they had dinner again, she could talk him into using the microwave to give them more time to read Paul's journals.

She turned back to Lieu. "Lieu?"

Lieu met her eyes. "Go to Paul's apartment, and take Henry with you. I'll take care of the warrant from my end." She looked at them. "You can leave."

They started for the door. Jo could barely believe her good fortune. Maybe Henry was in the clear….

"Jo?" Lieu's voice stopped the detective in her tracks. "Can you stay for a moment?"

She swallowed and slowly turned back to her boss. Then again, maybe not.

She inched her way back to the desk and braced herself for the bad news. "What?"

"You seem nervous about something." Lieu's expression softened. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Jo weighed her options and found the least suspicious one. She drew a deep breath and hoped that Lieu would believe her.

"I'm nervous about singing in front of everyone. I—."

Lieu met her eyes. "Stage fright?"

Jo nodded. "You could say that."

"I'm sure that you will do fine." A smile played on Lieu's lips. "From what I've heard from Bert and from Sgt. Lior's detectives, the entire group sounds pretty good." She chuckled. "That is, once Sgt. Lior got Dr. Washington to shut his mouth. I think that says something about the quality of your singing."

"Perhaps." Although she doubted it.

"I'm looking forward to hearing all of you. Until then, squeeze in more practice while you're getting ready to go out if you feel the need. Unless your voice decides to play hide-and-seek on the day of the performance, I don't see how it could hurt."

Jo studied her boss. Sure, why not? It was worth a try.

"Is that all?"

Lieu grew stern. "Don't you have a case to solve?"

"Yes, ma'am." Jo turned around and headed for the door.

Once at the threshold, she took a peek around the bullpen before joining Henry and Mike at her desk. She took a deep breath to replace the air she had lost. She hated lying to Lieu about Henry, but she had no choice. If she wanted to keep him in the city, though, she had to do it...even if it meant the possibility of losing her job one day because of her deception.

Her eyes met Henry's, and she relaxed. Maybe the case could provide her with a distraction. She could use one.

* * *

Henry peered down the alley leading toward Grand Central's main entrance. He spied the spot where, according to Jo and his own deductions, he had plummeted toward the earth along with their suspect. His free hand grew sweaty, and he rubbed it along the inside of his pants pocket.

Once again, he could hear the gunshot meant for Jo, and, once again, she fell to the ground. The events of his own gunshot wound had happened so fast that he barely had time to convince himself of how foolish it was to take on a suspect alone given his condition. Upon regaining consciousness, his anger about Jo's injury and his fear for Hanson's and everyone else's safety propelled him toward the killer. He definitely remembered staring up at the ledge just before his life flashed before his eyes, but whatever had happened between his charge and those final few moments had been completely wiped out by a combination of a loss of blood, the impact, and his fading consciousness.

Henry's heart pounded against his scar so hard that he thought it could beat the knotted tissue back into shape. He drew a deep breath. What would have happened if Hanson hadn't found Jo in time to rush her to the hospital? What if another wrong person had seen his death near the terminal and had planned to use that information against him? What if Jo hadn't been assigned to the case, and the detective who was had brushed off his observations? What if they hadn't discovered Koehler or his plans, and the immortal had later died in front of Lucas and their colleagues while processing the bodies within the aconite-filled station? Would he even be living in the city now?

He took another deep breath. Likely, he would have left New York if he had lost Jo that night or if she hadn't been assigned to the case. Adam had already witnessed his death in the crash and had evidently planned their early encounters well in advance, and it wouldn't have been worth risking Abe's life to remain in the city his son called home. Not to mention, it would have been impossible to explain to Lucas and to their colleagues how he had survived Koehler's attack when many of the passengers and several members of the OCME wouldn't. None of the outcomes would have guaranteed the opportunity to live his life in peace.

His thoughts and the images in his mind cleared long enough for the alley to give way to one of Grand Central's annex buildings. He huffed. Looking back at it, his decision to remain in New York even with the threat of Adam using their shared condition against the younger immortal seemed too simple. Sure, his desire to solve the mystery of his stalker had been a strong influence in it, and so was Abe's unwillingness to flee again. Yet, something else had encouraged him to listen to Abe and had kept him from running when he had first had the opportunity.

For a moment, he felt lighter. While debating with himself on what to do next that fateful evening, his thoughts had frequently migrated to the detective who had come to the morgue and distracted him while he had conducted the engineer's autopsy. As he had watched her, he had felt his emotions awakening and stirring….

"_I've carefully chosen this life so I don't have to get involved in these messy, emotional entanglements."_

Henry swallowed. Had he made a mistake? Should he have run one last time and allow the move to draw the psychopath away from Jo? Adam had clearly made his desire to destroy the younger immortal's life by using a loved one's death against him known about a year and a half ago. If things became serious between him and Jo, would he be able to protect her from the immortal psychopath when he had failed to do so for Abigail?

Then again, he hadn't been of much use when Adam had threatened Jo. He had allowed himself to become possessed with the idea of revenge against the psychopath for his role in Abigail's death, and it had nearly cost him his relationship with another woman he had been falling in love with. For a second upon his death "bed", he had found himself hoping that Adam wouldn't find Jo and kill her before the air embolism had kicked in. What kind of lover or husband would he be to her if he were to open her up to being vulnerable again?

His unfocused gaze tried to find something to anchor itself in the distance. He couldn't blame her for holding his actions against him. He….

His shoulder moved. Henry blinked several times to bring himself out of his trance. He followed the direction of the motion to its originator. His chest warmed when he met Jo's eyes.

She frowned at him. "What's up? You've been quiet. Bad memory?"

He schooled his features so she wouldn't fret over him. Instead of being comforted, he sensed that she wouldn't be satisfied with his answer if he lied about his feelings.

He sighed. "You could say that."

"Care to talk about it when we get a little privacy?"

He bowed his head and bundled his pants pocket's lining in his hand. "It's not that simple…."

"_What could be more simple than making an impulsive commitment for the rest of your life?"_

They stopped at the red light. He studied Jo. Was Abe correct? When they had met, had he subconsciously seen something else in her which had convinced him to stay in New York? Something more than a mere fascination with the young woman who had entered his morgue looking as though she shared his burdens of losing someone close to him and of knowing life's harsher realities?

Something like the possibility of one day making another impulsive commitment to a woman for the next part of his long life?

"Hey, dude! Get a move on!"

Henry snapped his head around to see where the voice came from. A man about Lucas' height motioned behind the older one. Henry turned back, and his eyes widened at the signal to cross.

The numbers counted down. Jo nudged him toward the intersection. His lips parted. How his body willingly submitted itself to hers, he would never know. And, to be honest with himself, he quite enjoyed it.

The blue canopy over the entrance to Paul's apartment building loomed into view. As he pressed the button for the other crosswalk, Henry reluctantly chased away the forming thoughts about his and Jo's future. Perhaps he could pick them up some other time…

….like later tonight.

* * *

"Are the two of you looking at renting an apartment here?"

Jo opened and closed her mouth several times. What on Earth gave Paul's landlord the impression of them wanting to move in together?

She quickly sorted through her memories. Upon finding their date, she shut her mouth again. Were they that obvious during an investigation too?

Behind her, Henry chuckled. "I hate to inform you, but neither of us are interested in moving at this time. We're quite happy where we are at."

Jo glanced back up at the petite blonde as they mounted another set of stairs. "We're with the NYPD. We're looking into the death of one of your tenants. Didn't your receptionist tell you that?"

"No, she hadn't." The young-looking woman sighed. "Sarah doesn't tell me anything more than people are here. I planned to give her one more chance, but, now…."

Jo nodded her head. She wished Candy would go ahead and kick Dr. Washington out of their group. Last night, he had deliberately stepped between Henry, Mike, and Lucas while they were at the table to pick up refreshments for themselves and for her. The next thing they knew, the other ME had backed Henry against the wall and had berated him for letting his date take precedence over practice. Jo could see the fire in Henry's eyes, but she wasn't too sure how much longer he could keep his anger reined in.

She swallowed. Was that why she was so awful last night? Had she allowed the jerk's murderous glares at her to get to her when they had resumed singing?

They rounded another banister, and Henry placed his hand on the small of her back. Her body tingled, causing her to tighten her grip on the handrail. All she could think about was turning around, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissing him once they stopped.

A creak cut through the fog in Jo's mind. Realizing where they were, Jo blinked several times and shook her head. How on Earth did he do that to her?

They emerged into a hallway and rounded the corner. Paul's landlord stopped at the first apartment on the right, took out her keys, and unlocked the door. "Let me know if you need anything."

Jo met the woman's gaze. She smiled and hoped it would hide her pleasure at her body's continuing tingle. "We will. Thank you."

They entered Paul's apartment and flipped on the light. Scanning the room, she pulled her lips together. It didn't look much different than when they had found Paul's body lying between the threshold and the living room chair.

She closed the door, stepped over to the closet, and swung its door open. She peeked under the linens and towels. She blew out some air when her search came up empty.

She turned to talk to Henry, but he was nowhere to be found. She rolled her eyes and closed the door. It would be like him to just take off like that.

She wove through the furniture, stopping long enough to check the end tables, the footrest, the sofa and chair cushions, and the potted plant for a pill bottle. "What tipped you off about the pills?" There had to be more to it than what he had told Lieu and Mike.

"I, um…." His cracking voice filled the area. He scoffed. "Is the door closed?"

"Yeah."

She followed his voice into the hallway. Recognizing what he was hinting at, her stomach lurched within her. Either that was one of his experiments or a brutal death.

"When was it?" As far as she and Abe knew, Henry's experiments had started just before he had joined World War II. Abigail had helped him in several, and Abe was his frequent assistant. At one point during her recent investigation into her own father, Jo had wondered how many times Henry would ask her to kill him to further his quest to become mortal again.

The memories of that case, her childhood and adolescence, and her and Henry's argument rolled in her mind. She shoved them back as hard as she could. From what she could tell, Henry was changing in that regard. He was far more honest with her than when they had first met. He was talking about death much less too. He was going out with friends more. And he had a spring in his step that was becoming more obvious by the day.

Jo's jaw clenched. There was only one woman who could get through to him like that, and it wasn't this mortal.

Henry's silence bothered her. She checked the kitchen and the opened bathroom….

"I'm in the bedroom."

Jo took the few steps into the bedroom. Henry walked toward her, cradling something small in his gloved hand.

He met her eyes and gave her a lopsided grin. "In case you're wondering, that death was 1841, Scotland. And it involved a woman."

Jo unexpectedly burst into laughter. "Why am I not surprised?"

She sobered and peeked at his hand. "What did you find?"

He held the bottle out. "Valerian root, which acts similar to benzodiazepines in the body." He twisted it, stared at the label, and sighed. "I've lost count of how many times I use this to get to sleep when warm milk doesn't help." He met her eyes. "Apparently, Paul had found it agreeable to him as well."

Jo noted the tears along the rim of Henry's eyelids. Did he really hide his nightmares, bad memories, and worries from Erica like his comments during their date had suggested? Did he refuse to tell her what was on his mind out of respect for her feelings about their condition? If so….

Jo's heart broke. Although a fellow immortal could relate to his concerns, he still felt he couldn't even relate to her.

Jo steadied her voice and hoped _she_ could comfort him. "How many pills are in there?"

He slowly looked at her. "He had just opened it. It's missing one."

His widening eyes roamed hers. "It looks like we've found one of our murder weapons. Now to find the other."

"Maybe you've skipped over a passage where Paul had mentioned it or his killer." Jo took Henry's hand and squeezed it. "If you want, I can drop by earlier."

He chuckled and bowed his head. "I'll attempt to chase Abe out of the apartment. I won't guarantee he will leave before six."

He pulled a plastic bag out of his coat pocket, bagged the evidence, and slipped it and his gloves back into the spot. He laid his hand on her back and guided her through the apartment.

The fading tingle grew stronger. She grinned. He could do this all day. And, if he kissed her, she would gladly surrender herself to her urges.

As they exited the apartment, she glanced back at him. His expression grew distant again. Her heart sank. He didn't do anything to deserve his pain. What she wouldn't do to take it all away from him and make him feel human again.

* * *

"What do you think?"

Jo set her mug down on the round coffee table and closed the journal in her lap. "Truthfully?"

Henry slipped his finger off of the page that he had bookmarked and let the cover fall into its place. He propped his other elbow on the sofa's back and supported his head with his fist. "Truthfully."

Her gloss-covered lips parted, and they glistened under the glow of the room's lights. "Paul reminds me a lot of you."

Henry narrowed his eyes. "Come again?" He had noticed several similarities between their victim's life and his own, but he had believed he was reading too much into Paul's thoughts.

Jo mirrored his posture. "The way he took things personally…."

Henry's heart sank. He broke his gaze and studied a spot between them on the gray sofa seat. Did she believe that he overreacted to everything that happened to him? If so, would that cause her to change her mind about their courtship?

He inwardly sighed. He might as well find out now before they went much further. Her happiness was not worth his pleasure if she believed that about him.

Lifting his head, he swallowed and gathered his courage. "As in?"

She bowed her head for a moment before meeting his gaze. "Between his parents' inability to accept him for who he was and Marcia's decision to have him committed for his revelation about his past, I can't even begin to imagine the emotional and mental nightmares he went through whenever he wanted something good in life. Or you for that matter."

Henry narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?" Unlike Paul, who had an advocate in Dr. Norbert, he didn't have someone who could vouch for his sanity until he and Father Timothy had shared a cell in Southwark Prison. By then, though, it was too late for him to feel as though he was even human.

Jo inched closer to him, dropped her arm, and wove it through the space his arm had formed. Her hand found the back of his head and proceeded to rub his nape.

Her eyes watered. "Nora killed your soul when she called you insane, and Adam killed it again when he kidnapped Abigail and forced her to choose between your life and hers. I see that now." She huffed. "I wish I knew what to do to bring it back so you don't go through life hurting like you do."

Jo's words pierced Henry's heart. Water sprang to his eyes, prompting him to close them. There was nothing she could do. This was entirely his responsibility. And he didn't know how to heal himself, let alone give her guidance as to how she could help.

He started to open his mouth to voice his thoughts when something deep in his soul released itself and disappeared. He scoffed. If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn that he suddenly felt free of the guilt over his lies to her and the life he had led until his and Adam's confrontation.

Henry took a deep breath and noted how much easier it was to breathe in her presence. How was it possible for her forgiveness to start its work on his heart? To lift those burdens and fling them somewhere where he would never find them?

He opened his eyes and looked into her beautiful brown ones. "I think you've started."

Jo gaped at him. He glanced down at her lap, removed the journals, and placed them beside her mug.

He leaned over and brought his forehead to hers. His eyes danced among the golden specks in hers.

"What's our next move, Detective? That is, after Paul's journals are submitted into evidence tomorrow morning?" He could drop them off early and return to the shop before his and Jo's date.

She broke her gaze and snorted. "I guess we talk to Barbara on Thursday and see if we can confirm what Paul had written." She looked back up at Henry, and he could hear her voice starting to crack. "I hate to do it since I know it will…."

Henry gave her a small lopsided smile which he hoped would chase away the painful memories of Sean's death for a while. "Let's not think about that tonight."

Jo smiled at him. "Thanks."

They gazed into each other's eyes for who knew how long. With each second that passed, he could feel himself opening up to her more and more, almost as if he was stripping his soul naked before her so she could do what she would with it.

He smiled at her. It had been a long time since he had felt this way. What he wouldn't do to thank her for this.

His eyes dropped to her lips. It was insufficient, but perhaps….

"May I?" His voice was so husky that he barely recognized it.

"Did you have to ask, Mr. Darcy?" A smile played on her lips.

Smiling back at her, he gently cupped her chin, tilted his head, and positioned his nose beside hers. His lips brushed against hers. She hummed delightfully in his ear. Succumbing to her spell, he started to pucker his lips….

"Pops? You home?"

Abe's voice jarred Henry back into his surroundings. His heart sinking, he released himself from her. As he crossed his arms, she pivoted until her back touched the sofa.

She leaned over until their temples touched. "I swear your son has the worst timing. The last time we had a moment, a part of me wanted to kill him for interrupting it."

Henry's eyes slid sideways, and his lips parted. Was it possible? Had he been correct to assume that she had had feelings for him then? And was it possible that they laid hidden under her surface all of this time?

Before he could address either question, Abe burst through the threshold and rounded the banister. Henry schooled his features and hoped his son would get the message.

Abe opened his mouth. "Am I interrupting anything?"

A part of Henry wanted to scold his son for the intrusion. He checked himself and inwardly sighed. It would be best if he didn't mention the lost moment to Abe in case things didn't work out between him and Jo. That way, Abe wouldn't get ideas about having a step-mother in his life in the near future like he had when the older Morgan's conversations with his now-ex had begun to focus on a potentially long life together.

Henry unfolded his arms, stretched himself over the coffee table, and picked up the journals. "Jo had come over to discuss a lead in our case. Nothing more."

He glanced at Jo and simpered. He hoped she would take it as his way of telling her that their time together tonight meant far more to him than he had let on.

She caught his eye, returned his small smile with one of her own, and brushed her hair back. She twisted around and peered at the light rain tapping on the window. The branches wove in the light wind.

She pushed herself off her seat. "I hate to leave you guys, but I don't want to get caught in the fog…."

She headed over to the corner. She directed a look that could kill at Abe, plucked her coat off the coat rack, and slipped it on.

Henry took another peek at the weather. He gulped. What if ice formed on the roads, causing her to slip while in the intersection or a car to slide into her? How would he live with himself if something were to happen to her?

"You know." He hoped he could change her mind. "You could stay here for the night. We wouldn't mind, and we'll be happy to escort you home to change tomorrow morning." He shot Abe a look that begged him to not protest.

She peeked back out of the window, thought for a moment, unfastened her sash, and slipped off her coat. "Yeah. I'll take you up on your offer. The weather looks too nasty anyway."

She hung up her coat and strolled back toward them. Henry gestured for her to take a seat in one of the chairs near the fireplace. Looking at him with smiling eyes, she mouthed "thank you".

A loose strand of hair fell against her cheek. He swallowed. What he wouldn't give to brush it away for her.

Remembering how difficult it had been to convert the sofa into a bed while she was in a drunken stupor the last time she had stayed over for the night, he started for the closet. He snagged Abe by the shoulder. Abe jerked under his hand.

"I could use some help with the bedding."

Abe opened his mouth. "But…."

"Now." Henry hoped he sounded as stern as he imagined.

He nudged the younger Morgan toward the hallway. Thankfully, Abe pointed himself in that direction before the immortal could say a word.

As they disappeared into the hallway, Abe stopped and swung his hands onto his hips. He glared at his father.

"Pops, what's going on? I haven't seen you like this since…."

A look of revelation crossed the young man's face. Henry's heart raced in his chest. He swallowed in hopes of getting the lump in his throat to move down into his stomach. Abe hadn't deduced the truth, had he?

The young man shook his head. "It must be the wine Fawn and I had tonight. I think I had one too many."

Henry's heart sunk in his chest. Was he hoping his son would believe his lies again? When Abe had learned about his father's immortality, the lad had been so angry with his parents that he had refused to speak to them for what had felt like an eternity. And it had taken him seeing one of Henry's brutal accidental deaths to convince him why they had hidden it from him.

Henry narrowed his eyes. It wasn't like the pair to not end their date until late into the night.

"Why are you back early?"

Abe huffed. "Her daughter called and asked her if she could babysit the grandsons tomorrow." He grinned and inserted his hands into his pockets. "I'm supposed to meet them at her house in the morning so we can spend the day at Bryant Park. The boys want to go skating, and Fawn wants to explore the markets. I never thought that I would say this, but I'm kind of looking forward to playing 'grandpa' tomorrow."

Relief flooded Henry's body. He would have hated it if the couple had broken up for some reason.

From the direction of the living room, Henry could hear Jo shuffle in her chair. He peered over Abe's shoulder. If they wanted a good night's sleep….

Henry nudged his son toward the bathroom. "Come on, let's make Jo's bed for her."

As they headed to the bathroom, he looked over his shoulder. He silently wished that he and Jo would get another moment to themselves. Hopefully, he could tell her how he felt about her before they were interrupted again.

* * *

**Author's Note:** In the program which I used to write the chapter, I named the last section "Abe, No!". I was yelling that when I realized what I had typed. XD By the way, the rest of Abe's "I haven't seen you like this since…." is "…Mom was alive."

I rewatched Henry and Jo's confrontation of Hans Koehler in the Pilot to see if I could identify the spot about where Henry lands on top of the taxi, but I couldn't quite identify it. For the purpose of the story, I set it along the Park Avenue Viaduct, just to the north of Grand Central Station's East 42nd Street's entrance. The information about valerian root and drug screens is from "Can The Regular Use Of Valerian Root Give Someone A 'False Positive' On A Urine Drug Screen?" and "How Long Does 25 mg Of Valerian Root Stay In Your System?" on BlurtIt's Health site. Henry's use of valerian is a head canon of mine.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** If you've noticed a change in the appearance of the document, I had to make one. The word processors which I use to edit my stories are starting to flag the use of two spaces behind the period as an error. It's a little frustrating since I've learned to type that way, but, apparently, it's a change I have to make. If it's unreadable, please let me know in the comments, and I'll see if I can change it back.

The chapter is longer than what I normally write. (You'll see why.) I hope you'll enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Henry leaned over the open drawer and surveyed his collection of rolled-up scarves nestled against each other in the storage space. He sighed. Jo had seen all of them at least once, including the red one which he had bought nearly a week before, and none of them would impress her now. Perhaps he should have gone to Paul Stuart before she had come to the shop yesterday and purchased another one.

"…_You're with me, remember? You don't need to impress me…."_

Once again, her slender, soft finger rested gently on his lips, and his thoughts began to dissolve. Reminding himself of the time, he twisted around to clear his head. Her gesture had rendered him delightfully incoherent in thought and weak in willpower. If it weren't the traffic near her apartment and the music from the skating rink, he would have chosen to remain under her influence for the rest of the day.

Jo's words roamed his mind. He huffed. He had never intended to give her the impression that he was attempting to prove his worth as a romantic partner for her. Save for the few times when he had chosen to remain quiet about his condition early in their relationship and the days after their quarrel about said condition, he had always felt comfortable around her. He didn't see why his pursuit of her was any different.

Rolling his tongue along the side of his cheek, he flipped through his memories, seeking the moment where he might have led her in that direction….

_Going all out for their dinner date. The coq au vin. Bragging about his parental prerogative. The line from Shakespeare__'s _Romeo and Juliet. _Wanting to surprise her with a place from his past on their first official date. His desire to take her to the Christmas markets__…in Germany. Even his bravado when Jo had asked him about his skating abilities._

_Almost as though he were her former boyfriend, Isaac Monroe._

Henry squinted his eyes and cursed himself. "Morgan, why did you lead Jo to believe that you are exactly like her other suitors? You should have been more like yourself. You should have behaved more like you had when you…."

His previous relationships flowed past him. He wiped his face and laid his index fingers on his lips. It was a pattern of behavior with which he was very well-acquainted. One which he had developed when he had been a rather awkward teenager whose first glimpse of an attractive female his age had turned his head and stirred his passions. And, apparently, two hundred and twenty-two years of experience hadn't taught him how to be more natural while courting a woman.

He crossed his arms and huffed. He wished that he could release his inhibitions and act more on his feelings. Yet, he was raised to treat a woman as though she were a queen and he her loyal knight. Any deviation from that would result in social scorn for them both. That frame of mind held especially true if he wanted more than a dalliance with her.

His eyes traveled to the empty spot on his end table where Paul's journals had laid last night. He wished that he read Jo's thoughts and intentions as readily as he had the books.….

Henry's mind returned to their moment and their near-kiss. He grinned. Jo liked him for who he was and not for his method of courtship, and that was all that should matter.

Speaking of Jo….

He quickly checked the time and turned back to the open drawer. He selected two scarves, hoped that she would find one suitable for the day, closed the drawer, and headed to the kitchen.

As he neared the entrance to the bathroom, the sound of water hissed through the door. Jo's voice belted out one of Candy's song selections as though her shower was a melody.

Henry leaned against the door and listened. She had been very uncomfortable during the second half of their previous rehearsal, almost as if doubts about her ability had suddenly crept into her mind. He attempted to reassure her that no one thought she was as bad as she had believed, but it had seemed as though nothing he said could convince her otherwise.

He closed his eyes and let her carry him away to places unknown. What he wouldn't give to listen to her seraphic voice for all eternity.

The smell of eggs and freshly-cooked baked beans wafted through the hall. Meanwhile, the scarves weighed heavily in his hands.

Henry sighed as he came out of his reverie. As much as he would love to remain rooted to his spot, he must finish putting together a presentable suit for the day.

He pushed himself away from the wall and resumed his walk to the kitchen. Her doubts echoed in his mind. His lips pulled down. How well did he remember when his own self-doubts about his abilities and skills had overwhelmed him. Perhaps one of them held the key to comforting her.

Emerging from the hallway, he glanced down at his scarves. He rolled his tongue in his mouth. Perhaps….

He looked up at his son. Abe set three plates on the table before heading back to the island for the eggs.

Once Abe set the food on the table, Henry strolled up to the younger Morgan. "Abe?"

Abe snapped his head up. "Slept well last night?"

Given Abraham's frustrating interruption about an hour before bed, Henry decided to ignore the question. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?" Abe set a hand on his hip. "I need to get the grapefruit out of the fridge and cut them in half before Jo gets out of the shower."

Henry unfurled the scarves and held them up to his neck. "Which one do you think Jo would like for our day off today?"

Abe locked eyes with his father. "Why don't you go without a scarf? It hasn't killed you yet when you ditch it."

Henry let loose an exasperated huff as one hand dropped to his side. He lifted the other, unrolled his index finger, and shook it at his son. "I seem to recall you once asking me a similar question about which tie went well with your intentions toward Fawn."

Abe's eyes narrowed. "You two aren't going…."

Adrenaline raced through Henry's veins, and his pulse drowned out the rest of Abe's words. _He__'s not thinking that, is he?_

Henry schooled his features and hoped his nervousness wasn't obvious. "I merely want to make myself more presentable for the day. That's all."

"So…." He dared to chance another try and raised the scarves again. "Which one should I wear?"

"Where are you going?"

Henry peeked back toward the bathroom. Jo's song flowed through the apartment, calling out to him. It wrapped itself around him and pulled his attention back to the bathroom.

The carol's lyrics caught in his ears. He swallowed as he recognized that she was nearing the end of the song.

He reminded himself of Abe's question and swam back to reality. He looked back at Abe. "Let's just say that you and I might run into each other in Midtown later in the morning."

Abe studied the older man, and his mouth opened. He chuckled. "You don't know where you're going, do you?"

Henry looked at his scarves, draped the maroon one over Abe's chair, leaned against the table, and started to roll up the blue paisley one. "Not really. It's the only hint she would give me." He smiled. "We agreed to surprise each other when we had planned our activities for the week. She wanted to plan today's day off, so I took Monday's."

Abe mulled it over for a moment before heading back to the refrigerator. "What type of statement do you want to make?"

Henry rolled his tongue in his mouth. "I want to say that I'm dependable. Reliable. That I…."

He caught himself, shut his mouth, and stared at his handiwork. What had gotten into him? He usually didn't think this way about a woman until years into a relationship with her. Had his ruminations about why he stayed in New York mingled with his and Jo's shared moment while he had slept, and they had freed something deep in his soul?

His vivid dreams faded into his vision and played before him. _That I would be a good father to our children_. _That I would be a good provider for her well into her old age. That I__…._

He slowly lowered the rolled-up scarf onto the table and took the other one in his hands. He should tell her his next words himself, not let his scarf signal his feelings for her.

A sliced grapefruit entered his vision. He followed the hand back up to his son's face.

Abe locked eyes with him. "Go with the blue one. She'd like that."

Henry peeked back at it. He swallowed. Somehow, he didn't think so.

Footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor before fading. Henry turned around to greet Jo.

She glided toward them, dressed in clothes that she had fetched from her apartment while he had gone to the precinct. Her damp, wavy strands swung rhythmically with each step.

He sat transfixed at her, observing how the morning light shined off her hair and taking in the tantalizing smell of her shampoo. He opened his mouth to compliment her, but nothing came out.

A brief image of him walking the room and taking her waist in his hands flashed before him. His heart ached for him to act on it, but, with the spell he was under, he couldn't move.

The room felt as though the radiator had started to act up. A second later, his shirt collar rubbed against his neck and tickled it. He reached up, scratched his neck, and tugged the collar slightly away from it.

He gaped at Jo. Maybe he should forget about wearing a scarf altogether. He didn't think his neck could tolerate extra fabric against it.

* * *

"Where are you taking me?"

The train slowed to a stop. Jo pushed herself out of the hard orange plastic seat, took Henry's hands into hers, and helped him to his feet. A teasing smile spread from her eyes to her lips.

The conductor's voice squawked over the speaker, reminding Henry of where they were. His lips parted, and he bowed his head in an effort to keep his passions under control.

When he finally looked back up at her, the left side of his lips lifted up. "I get it. A woman must maintain some sense of mystery to enhance her allure."

The doors hissed and clacked as they opened. His eyes roamed her face as she tugged him toward the cool air brushing against his warm face and bare neck. Then again, she had never needed to accentuate her power to enthrall him whenever she wanted. Her natural beauty, her intriguing contradictions, her gentle soul, her _joie de vivre_, and her delight in life's smallest pleasures had always kept him captivated by her mere presence.

As they cleared the platform, she interlaced their fingers and leaned against his shoulder. She positioned her free hand on his chest, and her fingers delicately traced a path along his scar. Although his thick coat and his dress shirt separated her from the ancient wound, the nerves under it burned and tingled as though skin was on top of skin.

His breath caught in his throat. How could it be possible for her touch to affect his body in this manner? To render his mind incapable…?

Feeling his passions stirring deep within him, he glanced away to reign them in. His eyes landed on the red and black sign hanging from the ceiling, the arrows pointing to the exit.

His mind raced through the possibilities. Upon recognition of one, his eyes widened.

"Are we going to see the Macy's holiday windows?" He smiled. "I noticed you staring longingly at the storefront while we passed by here a few days ago."

Catching his words, his heart sank. If that was all to their date….

She flipped her hair back over her shoulder and grinned at him. "We're going to _all_ of the holiday windows." She laughed. "Well, all but Barneys. When I was planning our route, I found a preview of their windows on their website, and they are too weird for my liking."

He returned her smile. From what he had heard about it from his colleagues, the store's display wouldn't fit her personality to begin with. As much as she enjoyed a taste of rebellion through her preference of rock music, she had always struck him as an old soul who would rather spend her days in a museum or walking through a park if she had the opportunity.

Her words echoed in his mind, and his spirits soared. They had all of the time in the world today.

They wove their way through the crowds of holiday tourists and subway performers to the stairs. Henry pulled Jo closer to him.

"Was this something that you and Sean had planned before his death?" It was a fair question. From what Henry had learned about the other man who had promised Jo that he would love her and provide for her for the rest of her life, Sean was a bit of a helpless romantic.

Jo broke her gaze as they mounted the first step. Henry's heart sank. He had no intention on bringing back a painful memory.

She sighed before looking over at the immortal. "We had. He, um…." She bit her lower lip. "We were supposed to come here the week after he died." She scoffed. "We had planned to have the whole 'Christmas in New York' experience that year. I found tickets to see the Rockettes on his home office's desk two weeks after his funeral."

Henry's memories of his and Abigail's own plans for the days after she had disappeared hit him. He swallowed back his tears. "I'm sorry."

She met his eyes. "Don't be." She smiled. "He knew I wanted to come here since I was a kid, but I never got the chance too." She placed her free hand back on his scar. "If I've learned anything over the past two and a half years, it's not to take life for granted. Now is as good time as any to go ahead and do it." Her eyes crinkled. "And I wanted to share this with you."

Henry studied her. Was it true? Did she see a future with him, and that was why she had chosen this personal wish with him?

At the top, holiday music flowed across the mezzanine. Henry narrowed his eyes. If he didn't know any better, the rock sound resembled a carol.

He scanned the crowd for the musician. His eyes landed on a guitarist playing near the stairs leading down toward the tracks. He looked the other man over and gulped. He remembered being in similar circumstances long ago.

Henry leaned over, and his head touched Jo's. "Would you mind if we stopped over there—." He pulled his other hand out of his pocket and pointed to the young man. "—for a few moments?"

Jo shrugged. "Sure." She studied him. "What's on your mind?"

Henry let the music guide him across the level. He released Jo's hand, reached into his pocket, and fished out his wallet. He found the largest bill he had on him, took it out, and laid it in the man's case.

The musician glanced into the case while Henry slipped his wallet back into his pocket, and his eyes met Henry's. Henry flashed him a smile before taking Jo's hand and guiding her toward the exit.

She smiled at him. "What did you see in him which led you to him?"

"Other than his talent?" Henry stepped back long enough to allow Jo to go through the turnstiles first.

Jo nodded as he wrapped his arm around her again. Her hand resting on his waist threatened to undo him.

He drew a deep breath. _Come on, Morgan, stay focused. She asked you a question, and she__'s waiting for you to offer a response_.

They joined their fellow travelers in the wide hallway connecting the mezzanine with the stairs leading to the street. Henry bowed his head for a moment. "When I came here…." He gave her a glance to inform her it was in very late 1889. "I had nothing more than the clothes on my back, and I had found myself wishing that I had taken the time to gather a few of my possessions and some additional clothes to bring with me." Henry nodded downstairs. "The young man reminds me a little of myself back then." He scoffed. "But my landlord hadn't recently increased my rent like his had."

"I see." Jo laid her index finger against his lips. The canned Christmas music from the speakers around them and the roars of the traffic overhead faded. "You can tell me how you deduced that later."

Henry gazed into her eyes. _Deduce what? I don__'t remember what we were talking about. In fact, I'm a little fuzzy as to my own name._

They neared the stairs. Henry shook his head and blinked as he came back to himself. How was it possible for her to, with one touch, take his mind and bend it to her will like that?

He permitted a comfortable silence to fall over them while he pondered her power over him. A few moments later, chilly air blew on his face as they reached the top of the subway exit. Henry blinked several times. It was overcast, but the faint sunlight had never been that bright before. What…?

Jo nudged him around the corner. He shook his head at the metal barricades and the trailers occupying the site of Herald Square's usual tables and food carts. It was difficult to believe that, just a few weeks ago, none of this existed.

An orange fast food restaurant sign blocked the antique globe streetlights which greeted visitors to the store. Henry gulped. If she planned for them to….

"What?" Jo's voice called him back to her.

He nodded toward the door. "I don't think I want to eat there today."

"What's wrong with it?" She nudged his shoulder. "You eat microwaved food, drink cheap beer, and enjoy unhealthy snacks."

He resisted the urge to smile at the modern appliance's fulfillment of the promises the earlier ones had made, the time which he spent with her and their friends at McSorley's or the karaoke bar which distracted him from the beer's taste, and the unusual new food they had shared the other day. He wouldn't trade any of them for a cure for his condition.

He stopped to let a couple enter and waited until the door was closed. "My food choices are a lot healthier and, to be honest, much tastier." He scoffed. "Even one of your gyros would make a better lunch selection than what this place offers."

"We won't eat there today." She took his waist and steered him to the first window. "Come on, you old fogey. We have a storefront to explore."

They peered inside. One elf used a control panel to match children with their desired toys while another handed a gift to Santa. Presents flew up a modern-looking vacuum tube. Behind Santa, a radar station monitored air traffic over the North Pole.

"_Come on, you old fogey…."_

Swallowing, Henry looked up at the candy cane pipes lining the "room". Exactly how did she see him? As someone who refused to let go of the past for fear of losing himself? As someone she would constantly need to take care of because his memories and his emotions overwhelmed him on a fairly regular basis? As someone who would grate her nerves with his long-obtained knowledge and experience?

He dared to glance at her. Was he making a mistake in his pursuit of her? Could his immortality become an issue with her when she aged? He had once assumed Abigail had accepted the challenges that had laid ahead, but he was, at least momentarily, wrong. With Jo, he….

Jo twisted her head toward him. "You okay?"

His stomach churned at her upturned eyebrows. He started to ask if they could cut the date short when her words returned to him again.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head. He should have never doubted her. She had teased him in much the same way as Abigail and Abe had, and Abigail's playful jabs at his age were the last things he vaguely remembered as passion engulfed him. Perhaps his nervousness about the day lingered in his mind like sensations in his body did after a very violent death.

He drew in a deep breath and willed himself to not blow it out. "I am." He gestured to the next window. "Why don't we go over there?"

They walked up to the second window. Henry's chest warmed. Once again, his five-year-old self peppered Vincenzo Lunardi with questions about his animals and the balloon before the Italian's ascent over London. A quick glance up, and his terror turned into glee as Glenn Curtiss took him up for his first flight ever.

Jo caught his expression in their reflection. "Something looks familiar?"

He met her gaze. "All of it." He smiled. "If you would like, I'll tell you about my first time seeing a hot-air balloon and being in a biplane later." He looked at the prominent object in the center. "Want me to tell you about the pinball machine now?"

She nodded, encouraging him to go on.

He lowered his voice and bent his head toward the giant table. "Abe spent a part of his adolescence playing pinball. Abigail wanted me to scold him for wasting his time with the game. I couldn't bring myself to do it." He bowed his head as his cheeks warmed at the memory.

Jo giggled. "You played pinball when you were a kid?"

"A version of it, yes." He met her smiling eyes. "It looked fun, and my friends had encouraged me to play. Unfortunately, Mother and Father felt I should focus on my studies, so I stopped out of respect for them."

Jo craned her neck up and set her lips near his ear. "I don't blame you. I'd do the same if he were my kid."

As they parted, his gaze roamed her face. He gaped at her. Would she be like this as the mother to their children should they marry? She had already chased Abe through Manhattan on several occasions, and she scolded the young man as readily as his immortal father would. Yet, somehow, Henry could see her nurturing them after school and on breaks when her cases allowed. Comforting their children when they were hurt. Helping them with their homework when he could not. Reassuring him that their children were fine men and women because of their upbringing.

Several people's conversations filtered into his ear. He bowed his head to reorient himself before nudging her away from the crowd.

They eased around the crowd and found a place at the next window. Henry took Jo in his arms and pulled her close to him. Feeling her warmth, he closed his eyes and savored it.

When he finally opened them, he studied the display. Several family scenes depicting children playing in the snow, reading next to the fireplace, and spending time with their parents adorned a massive oak tree. In the trunk, a man and a woman approached each other and kissed under the mistletoe.

Henry stared at the couple. What he wouldn't give to kiss Jo. If it weren't for Abe….

Jo caught his reflection. "Had you ever thought about having another family one day?"

He bit his lower lip and thought his response over. He scoffed.

"I never thought I would say this, but I do." He met her eyes. "I really do." He chuckled. "In fact, I was dreaming about it last night."

Her eyes widened, but a smile played on her lips. "Really?"

He nodded before sobering. "How about you? Do you see yourself starting a family someday?"

He swallowed. Not only could he not believe he had just asked that, but also he feared her answer.

Jo placed her hands on his wrists and pulled him closer to her. "Yeah, I do. I've been thinking about it lately." She met his reflected eyes. "It's just a matter of meeting the man who I want to start it with. Maybe one day…." Her voice trailed off in an almost dreamy manner.

She snuggled against him. Henry's heart pounded in his chest, and air caught in his throat. Could she be…?

A blast of warm air hit his exposed skin. He pivoted toward the doors. A group of holiday shoppers streamed out of the entrance, carrying bags in their hands. The song coming from the foyer threatened to drown out the tinned music from the display.

He cursed himself as he recognized the lyrics. How did he forget about practice tonight?

One shopper came out of the store, and Henry inwardly groaned. He still didn't have any jeans and a more modern sweater for their caroling outings. He had put the task off for as long as possible, hoping Candy would relent and let him wear dress pants and a sweater vest. Yet, with the first performance being five days away, he should swallow his pride and purchase them before the event.

He peered through the glass and rolled his tongue along his cheek. They wouldn't be his style or fit, but the store should have both. He….

Jo nudged him toward the next window. "What's on your mind?"

He leaned over. "Did you know I used to shop here for my suits before I went to Paul Stuart?"

"You're kidding?" She nodded toward the building. "You don't strike me as the type."

He lowered his voice. "Paul Stuart wasn't built until 1938. I came here for suits and various goods when money was tight, and I couldn't afford clothes from Brooks Brothers."

She threw her mouth back and mouthed "Ah…."

Before he could react, they stopped in front of a group of spinning elves bearing gifts on a golden reindeer's antlers. Her smile grew as she watched the imaginative dance.

Henry took a peek up at the gray plastic banner draping the window overhead. Noting the word, he grinned. She had given him so much since he had met her. Patience. Forgiveness. Understanding. Friendship. Support. Another chance at life. L….

Something tapped his shoulder. He blinked himself back to the shores of the present.

He glanced at Jo. "Ready for the next window?"

She grinned at him. "Whenever you are."

He guided her to the next display. Upon sight of Santa and Mrs. Claus kissing, Henry's memories of his and Jo's relationship flowed past him. He had put off not telling her how he felt long enough. When they would have some privacy, he would tell her today. After that….

"Henry?"

Jo's voice pierced his thoughts, and the memories faded. He smiled at her to let her know he was fine before turning to the last window.

They headed over and stopped at an aquatic wonderland. While everyone oohed and ahhed over the changing images in the background, Jo's reflection caught Henry's eye.

Air caught in his throat as her hair turned white and the ridges in the plastic waves graced her cheeks and forehead. She would be absolutely stunning when she would become old and gray.

His eyes traveled from the reindeer down to the jellyfish under the water. His first death flashed before him. He drew a deep breath. Had he had remained dead that fateful day, he would have never had the opportunity to know her. To fall in love with her. To….

Sensing she was ready to continue to their next destination, he shook himself out of his reverie.

Henry met Jo's eyes. "Where are we going to next?"

"Lord & Taylor, and, after that, Saks and Rockefeller Center." She smiled at him. "Enjoyed your daydream?"

The air around him warmed. She had no idea.

He sneaked one last glance at the scene before gesturing to the intersection. "Shall we?"

As they started for their next destination, his heart raced. Even if their time today was limited, he was spending it with the woman he loved.

* * *

"What time is it?"

Henry checked the time. "Two o'clock."

His heart sank. He looked up at the bare elm trees lining Literary Walk's wide sidewalk and swallowed down the bile that had surfaced. Even with the crowds at the rest of the holiday windows and at the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center, the entire journey through Midtown had felt much shorter than a few hours. What he wouldn't give to spend more time with her.

His eyes roamed Jo's face. If she wanted, they could skip practice tonight. Candy had scheduled it at the last minute when they had first begun, but that was before they had sounded as good as his fellow members of the Diogenes Club. He doubted the rest of the group, save for Dr. Washington and their friends, would notice any difference in the quality of their singing if the pair was missing.

Henry started to open his mouth to suggest the idea when Jo's phone rang in her pocket. She pulled it out and groaned.

"Who is it?" He wished that he could see the screen.

"Candy."

Henry's heart raced within him. Perhaps Candy wouldn't be too offended if they mentioned their desire to have more time for themselves.

Candy's "no" to Dr. Washington cut through the fog clouding Henry's thoughts. He swallowed. Then again, she wasn't calling them to announce an early rehearsal, was she?

Jo tapped on the screen and positioned the device between them. "Jo here."

"Jo, I'm glad you picked up." Candy's voice filled the space between them. "Listen, the chief of detectives scheduled a last-minute meeting for all of us supervisors of detectives, and I'm calling everyone to cancel practice…."

Henry narrowed his eyes. Was he hearing her correctly?

Candy continued. "I couldn't reach Henry, so I left a message with his roommate Abe. Will you see that he gets the message in case Abe forgets to give it to him?"

Jo met his eyes and smiled at him. His breath quickened at the pleasant prospect before them.

She turned back to the phone. "Sure. I'll tell him."

"Great! I'll see you Sunday evening then." A second later, the phone clicked.

Henry burst into laughter. Never in a million years would he have expected that.

Jo looked up from her pocket. "What?"

"I was thinking about us skipping practice seconds before she called."

Jo's eyes widened. "Really?" She then giggled. "Are you psychic too?"

Before he could answer her, she tapped him on his shoulder and grinned. "Don't answer that." She released her hand, wrapped her arm around his waist, pulled him closer to her, and placed her hand on his chest. "Sometimes I do wonder what other things your condition lets you do." She giggled. "Then again, maybe I'm getting a little carried away with some of Lucas' wild ideas."

Henry scoffed. "He does seem to have a much higher opinion of me since I discussed my past with him." Lucas had mentioned the word "superhero" more than once that night, but Henry, whose knowledge extended only to Abe's love of the _Superman_ comics, didn't see any commonality with them.

Jo's fingers danced along the edges of his scar before migrating closer to the point of impact. There, she graced it with small, circular motions which sent a tingling down his body. He fluttered his eyelids just to remain in the moment.

"That—" Her voice dropped so only he could hear it, "—doesn't mean that I don't find your condition amazing."

He peered over at her. He started to say something, but another dance of her fingers stole his power to speak from him. He shook his head, and his lips parted as he….

She hissed.

He snapped to attention. 'What is it?"

She stopped, released him, and reached toward her ankle. "My feet. I can't believe I walked so much today."

Henry pulled his lips together as she slipped off one flat shoe and rubbed her sole. Except for their lunch from a Greek food truck several blocks from Bloomingdale's, she had had very little time to stop and rest. He was surprised that her feet hadn't bothered her long before now.

He lifted his head and surveyed the area. He spied a bench not far from their location.

She replaced her shoe and straightened her back. "What are you looking at?"

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pointed her toward the seat. "Relief for your feet."

She returned the gesture and pulled him close to her. "Lead the way."

A few steps later, he lowered her onto the metal park bench lining the fence separating the park's grassy areas from the walking lane. As he settled beside her, she smiled at him. "Thanks."

She studied him for a minute. Her eyes narrowed. "Did you enjoy yourself today? I mean…."

He bowed his head and smiled. "I had. Thank you for sharing your lifelong desire with me."

He wiggled closer to her. Their hips touched, sending a tingle throughout his body. He gaped, closed his eyes, and smiled. What he wouldn't give….

Not wanting to ruin the pleasure he was feeling, he dared to open his eyes. Below them, the shadows of a bow and a pendulum danced on the road.

He craned his neck to confirm what he had assumed. He swallowed as the bow tied around the street light and the sprig of mistletoe dangling from it swung in the light wind. He had long suspected that the plant had played a role in his conception as well.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jo looking up at it. His heart raced. Perhaps….

He straightened his neck at the same time as she did. His eyes traced a path from her own to her lips and back up again.

He scoffed and offer her a sheepish grin. "I did not select this seat because of what hangs overhead. I thought it was the closest one to us."

He gazed into her eyes. Once again, his soul bared itself to her.

"You know," His voice grew husky. "Tradition holds…."

She smiled and pivoted herself toward him.

He mirrored her movement. Once satisfied, he set his hands on her waist, tilted his head, and placed his nose beside hers. He closed his eyes and brushed his lips against hers before placing his lips on hers.

She reached behind his head and rested her hand on his nape. She moved closer to him, laid her other hand on his waist, and pulled him closer to her.

As soon as he lifted his lips off of hers, she set hers on his. His body tingled, and he deepened the kiss into a lover's one.

He had no idea how much time had passed, but, eventually, he pulled away from her to catch his breath. He rested his forehead against hers and gazed into her eyes again.

"That was…." He scoffed. "I…."

He grinned. It had been a very long while since a kiss had rendered him speechless. Maybe 70 years? Or was it longer? At the moment, he couldn't remember.

Jo gave him a soft smile. "That was something else, Dr. Morgan."

His grin grew even larger. What he wouldn't do to please her for the rest of her life.

She tilted her head. "I would like to do that again."

As they kissed again, his heart soared. He was in love with her, and she with him. And, right now, that was all that mattered.

* * *

Henry floated up the stairs leading to the apartment, barely noticing his surroundings. Jo's lips rested faintly on his, leaving him unable to regard anything else.

He rolled his tongue in his mouth as he removed his coat. He grinned at a hint of her lunch's flavors along his cheek. Apparently, their longest-lasting kiss was much deeper than he had thought….

….and the result was leaving him more enchanted with her now than he was when he had dropped her off at her apartment.

He glided through the living room and hung his coat on the coat rack. He hastily unbuttoned his collar and tugged it away from his neck. Was it him, or was the radiator acting up again?

"Enjoyed yourself today?"

Henry slightly startled out of his daze. He turned around and found himself facing Abe. His son closed the refrigerator door and carried a glass bowl to the island.

Henry nodded. "I had."

Abe laid both hands on the edge of the wooden countertop. "And?"

"I…."

Henry lowered his gaze and studied a spot on the chairs guarding his side. He could feel the sensations of the day fading with each moment. He would hate for them to disappear altogether if he spoke.

He looked back up at Abe. "I would rather not talk about it now."

Abe studied him for a minute. He dropped his head and nodded. "Gotcha."

A small part of Henry ached. It wished it knew what Abe was thinking.

A moment later, Abe perked up. "I made some creamy Tuscan garlic chicken for dinner." He made his way over to the cabinets. "You want some?"

The tempting aroma of the entree invited Henry to partake of his son's creation. As he peeked over the bowl's edge, his tongue brushed against his cheek again.

He inwardly groaned. Eating the meal would mean giving up the last traces of Jo until morning.

He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. "I'm not very hungry."

He turned to the hallway. If he were honest with himself, he preferred to be alone with his memories until he fell asleep.

He met his son's gaze. "If you don't mind, I think I'll turn in for the night. We had a long day, and I'm feeling a little fatigued."

Henry's heart wrenched in his chest. He hated lying to his son, but he would rather not hurt Abe's feelings with missing dinner.

Abe smiled at him like a Cheshire cat. "No, I don't mind a bit. I'll see you in the morning. 'Night, Pops."

"Good night, Abe."

As Henry headed to his room, Jo's lips ghosted his, and her hands embraced the back of his neck and his waist. He smiled. If this was their first step toward marriage, he was looking forward to seeing the rest of the journey.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Details about the 2016 holiday windows are from lafuda's "Macy's 2016 Christmas Windows" on YouTube, "Window Wonderland—Macy's" on Google, and "NYC Holiday Windows Walking Tour Map" on Google Maps. The information about Macy's in the early 1900s , Vincenzo Lunardi, Glenn Curtiss, pinball, Paul Stuart, and Brooks Brothers are from Wikipedia. The preview of Barneys' windows can be found in their YouTube video "Go Inside Barneys 2016 Holiday Windows". Henry and Jo's route is a 3-mile (4.7-kilometer) walk.

foreverHenry919, ForeverCloisJenry, and a few other writers here and on AO3 have stories about what any special powers Henry's immortality might give him. For this story, Henry's immortality does change his body 's chemistry and immunity slightly, but it's to improve his chances of survival. (Think Adam's DNA possessing evidence of every infection he's ever had.) Everything else is from centuries of practice.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note**: Sorry about being late with the chapter. Writer's block hit about mid-month. Then, Chapter 9 decided to pop in my head and tempted me to write it instead. (It's mostly finished. I'll post it at the end of the week.)

Interesting note about the last chapter: When Henry thinks about dropping Jo off at her apartment, it's relative. You'll see why in a few seconds. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Happily sighing, Jo bundled her hair into a ponytail and then released it. She didn't remember the last time that she had felt this refreshed. With the cases that she had lately, she had begun to wonder if she would ever have a quality night's sleep again.

She entered the living room and headed toward the sofa and coffee table. She smiled as she gathered the dishes which she had convinced Henry to leave in their spots and took them to the kitchen sink. He had insisted on cooking for her before he had left for the shop. She had started to say something, but, with his puppy-dog eyes, she had found herself unable to resist.

She checked out the few caked crumbs on the plate, and her smile grew wider while she washed the mess that had likely irked Henry. She could get used to his cooking. Her early dinner was a simple meal created from the scraps she had in the fridge. Ordinarily, she would have just thrown something edible together from a few items…if she didn't decide to order some takeout. In Henry's skillful hands, though, her leftovers had been transformed into something that was as gourmet as his _coq au vin_.

Once finished, she went back to the sofa, plucked her sheet from the cushions, slung it over her shoulder, and tucked her pillow under her arm. As she strolled back through the apartment, the balls of her feet and her heels ached. She winced, leaned against the threshold, lifted one foot, and massaged the heel with her free hand. She had thought soaking her feet in the Epsom salt bath that Henry had fixed would have taken care of the pain.

Setting her leg down, she huffed. She should talk to him about it when she showed up at the shop. He would know what else she could do to take away the pain before they had to go to work. If there were nothing they could do, maybe he would talk Lieu into letting her perform desk duty for most of the day.

Jo dropped her bedding onto the bed and put everything in her arms back on it. She reached for her phone and checked the time. Her heart leapt into her throat. If she wanted to join the Morgan men for breakfast, she needed to hurry.

She rummaged through her closet, found a purple blouse and a black pair of pants, and slipped into them. When she reached for her shoes, she groaned. With the amount of agony they had put her through yesterday, she wasn't sure if she wanted to see them again.

She blew out a puff of air at the boots, flats, and heels lining the closet's walls. If she wanted more long walks with Henry, or if she needed to find him in a body of water while following a lead in their case, maybe she should invest in a pair of sneakers.

Counting the seconds, she reluctantly chose her most comfortable pair of flats and put them on. She grabbed her wallet and cell phone off of the end table and slipped them into her pockets. She returned to the closet long enough to snatch her coat and put it on before leaving.

As she strolled toward the shop, she buried her hands deeper into her pockets and squeezed her arms closer to her side. She grinned and hummed. In some ways, it felt as though she was still dreaming. She had been nervous about going through with her plans to see the holiday windows. As far as she knew, it wasn't Henry's cup of tea, and it had felt selfish for her to indulge in one of her lifelong wishes while on a date. His stories about the past, his appreciation of her intentions, and the time that they had spent together had more than made up for the nervousness.

His lips ghosted her. Her hum grew louder. What she wouldn't do to kiss Henry again. The ones they had shared under the mistletoe in Central Park were absolutely mind-blowing.

The golden letters of the shop's name glistened in spite of the overcast skies. Her eyes darted down to the door and then to the large windows facing the intersection. As she approached the corner, she waited for Henry to appear in the window.

Her heart sank. Had he forgotten that they were supposed to have breakfast together this morning? Or had he been called into work early, and he had no time to let her know about his recent assignment?

The light on the opposite street post changed. Jo aimed herself toward the shop's door and stepped off the sidewalk. If he went to work early, she should drop by the autopsy room later to see when he would be free to go to Barbara's apartment with her. If he had forgotten about breakfast, a proper chastisement would be in order.

Jo scoffed as she caught her thoughts. "Sounds like I need another re-watch of _Pride and Prejudice_. Good thing I bought the DVDs and returned the ones I borrowed to the library." She bit her lower lip. "Maybe I should talk Henry into joining me."

She mounted the other sidewalk and peeked into the windows again. The door separating the shop from the living quarters swung open. The moment Henry crossed the threshold, the warmth in Jo's smile spread through her body, making her forget about the cold.

He peered out the window, and his smile shone as bright as the sun. He unlocked the door and held it open for her.

She eased in next to him. The second the door was closed and locked, she cupped his cheeks, leaned in, and grazed her lips on his before lying them on his. He immediately set his hands on her waist and deepened the kiss. She let go of his cheeks, snaked her arms around his neck, and pulled him closer to her.

When she eventually came up for air, she rested her forehead against his. She gazed into his eyes, and she could feel herself getting lost in them.

He gave her a huge lopsided grin. "You have quite the way of saying 'good morning', Detective."

She scoffed. "You're not so bad yourself." In fact, she wouldn't mind kissing him like this every morning for the rest of her life.

Jo unhooked one arm, placed her hand on his chest, and traced his scar. "Did you kiss me on my head when you were leaving my apartment?" She had thought she had felt him bending over her and something settling on that spot moments before she fell asleep.

He briefly bowed his head as much as the space between them would allow. "It's a habit I have. I do it only for the people I deeply care about."

"Really?" Her eyes roamed his dancing ones. If he cared about her that much….

A whiff of eggs and baked beans drifted down the stairs and toward the door. Jo breathed it in and hummed with delight. Breakfast sure smelled heavenly.

She reluctantly parted with Henry and joined his side. He stepped behind her and placed his hand on the small of her back. She glanced down at the ground to keep herself from getting carried away with his touch.

The aroma grew stronger as she approached the stairwell. It took her a minute to remember exactly how many people lived there.

Swallowing, she looked over her shoulder. "Does Abe know about us yet?"

Henry shook his head. "Not yet. I want to wait a little longer to see how we are as lovers. I don't want to raise his expectations only to tell him that fate had different plans for us than what he had felt. He has already been through that experience, and I prefer not to put him through it again."

Jo's heart started to sink toward her stomach. Was he having second thoughts about them?

She shoved that thought out of her mind as she mounted the stairs. No, not with him uncharacteristically referring to fate's guidance in his life. The few times in which she had heard him express any form of a spiritual belief, it was in connection with his condition or to his life with Abigail and Abe...and, now, apparently her. Otherwise, he was a nonbeliever in the supernatural.

She slowly nodded. "I don't blame you. I don't want to tell Lucas and Mike about us just yet. I want them to keep their noses out of our business for as long as possible. Do you remember what happened with Molly and Erica?"

Henry chuckled, and Jo bit back her own laugh. Mike and Lucas had jumped at the chance to question Henry about his first—and only—date with the dominatrix turned psychology professor the next morning. As for Erica, the men had practically interrogated Henry until he had relented and informed them that he had been courting her as though it were the 1890s. Jo didn't want them to bombard her with questions about every detail of her and Henry's past few days together.

They reached the top of the stairs. Jo peeked around the threshold to see where Abe was. She inwardly breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed him at the stove, his back turned to them.

She walked just far enough to let Henry onto the top step, turned around, and gave him another short kiss. As her lips left Henry's, she silently wished that fate would show them what their future held soon. Hopefully, she would be a long part of his eternal story.

* * *

Jo pulled Henry closer to her, the gesture warming his body anew. Smiling, he dropped his eyes and settled them on the tree-lined cobblestone path as they strolled along the Seine. It had been four days since their arrival in the City of Lights. Four glorious days filled with them finally giving themselves over to their passions and getting lost in the ancient city. Four days which he wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

Her fingers traced a loving path along his scar. He turned his attention back to her and gaped at his bride of five and a half days. How was it possible for fate to guide her to him when he had almost given up all hope of ever experiencing love and living life again? For her to speak to his heart and encourage him to come out from behind the walls he had built to protect his heart from future heartbreaks? For her to see the damage which his long life had caused and to nurse him back to health as Abigail had done nearly a century before? For Jo to agree to join him in his journey through life for as long as fate would allow? If, years or even decades ago, someone would have told him that fate would bring them together, he would have never believed them.

He reached over, took her fingers into his hand, lifted the back of her hand to his lips, and kissed it. Her smile grew brighter than the blue skies over the city and tempted him to return to the hotel before their more passionate natures took over.

He averted his gaze to the graceful arches of the Pont du Carrousel reaching out toward the Quai des Saints-Pères. He quirked his eyebrows up. Perhaps they could stop at a nearby cafe for something to eat, a glass of wine, and a short rest before continuing their walk. It had been a while since they had shared a romantic breakfast near their hotel. Surely her meal couldn't last much longer.

Jo winced. Henry pulled his lips together. Her feet didn't appear to be bothering her. What…?

A moan chased the wince through his consciousness. The cobblestone path, the wall sheltering pedestrians from the Quai Francois-Mitterrand's traffic, and the glassy waves of the Seine faded, leaving a view of his and Abe's kitchen in its wake.

He glanced down at the glass and plate in his hand. His cheeks warmed. What had just happened?

As he took the dishes to the island for Abe to wash, Henry blinked several times and shook his head. He must have taken a microsleep while helping Abe and Jo clear the table. He had attempted to let his memories of his and Jo's date yesterday lull him to sleep, but it didn't come until well into the very early morning hours.

He set the items onto the island and swallowed back his huff. It had felt so real, though. He could have sworn that he and Jo were really—and finally—in Paris.

Abe caught his eye. He gave his father an amused smile before taking the dishes to the sink.

Henry swallowed. This was going to be more challenging that he had first assumed. He wasn't sure how long they could avoid telling his son about his and Jo's courtship. Even if they could hide it for a very long time, Abe would figure it out eventually and would confront them about it.

He shoved the thought of Abe's future consternation aside. He would cross that bridge when he came to it. Right now, he needed to finish helping his son clean up before he and Jo headed to work.

Henry turned around, and his heart sank at the sight of Jo propping herself on the table and rubbing her foot. He pressed his lips together. When he had left her last night, he had thought the Epsom salt bath that he had prepared for her had soaked her pain entirely away.

He squared his shoulders and headed to the table. As he approached her, she met his eyes and gave him a small smile that failed to convince him that she was okay.

He cast a quick glance at her feet. His chest warmed. She was on the right track, but what he was thinking about would help more.

"Would you like some additional relief?"

She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. She shifted her attention to her feet and then to him.

Her shoulders sagged, and she breathed a sigh of relief. "What do you recommend?"

"More like what I could do for you."

He escorted her to the sofa. While they settled on opposite ends of it, he drew a deep breath. To be honest with himself, he had started to believe that the day in which she would agree to this would never come.

He laid her feet in his lap and removed her flats and socks. He inspected one flat's sole as he set the rest beside him. He tilted his head at the scruffs and creases on the rubber. Apparently, she had chosen comfort over a professional look today.

He laid the shoe next to its mate, took another deep breath, and kneaded her toes. He pressed his lips together as his thumbs rolled over several knots. He didn't realize her feet were that tight last night. If he had, he would have suggested a foot massage much earlier.

He glanced up to see whether he was causing her more pain. At that moment, she wiggled closer to him.

"That feels good." Her voice grew softer while he finished her little toe and eased toward her ring toe. "Where and when did you learn how to give a massage?"

He swallowed. He really shouldn't tell her who had taught him this. He didn't want her to think his whole heart wasn't hers.

"_I deserve the truth."_

Henry slowed his movement. He had thought that her forgiveness would have silenced his guilt. Apparently, it hadn't.

He squared his shoulders and gathered his courage. She deserved to know, even at the cost of their relationship.

"Erica showed me how." He met Jo's gaze and smiled. "I asked her on your behalf last month. After your run in high heels, I noticed your feet ached for several days. From experience with the amount of walking Abigail did on a daily basis, I knew pain relievers, foot soaks, ice, and rest were ineffective solutions while at work. I wanted to perform the technique on you, but I never had the opportunity due to our cases."

Jo inched closer to him. Her other foot brushing his arm, sending a tingle throughout his body.

"I'm not surprised you two traded tips with each other." Jo scoffed. "Two former medical professionals with almost 240 years of experience between them can't resist swapping stories with each other. I would too if I were immortal and found someone like myself."

Henry looked down and concentrated on the ball of her foot under her big and second toes. Erica's decision to leave her life as a midwife behind for a career as a detective was as recent as his own choice to enter forensic pathology. It was only natural for them to be inquisitive about the other's experiences in their respective fields.

He analyzed Jo's tone for signs pointing toward a change in her decision to let him court her. He resisted the urge to sigh. As far as he could tell, she seemed rather pleased with the request. His past, however, warned that he mustn't be too careful with his assumptions.

"Enjoyed your daydream?"

Jo's soft, teasing question registered in Henry's mind. He raised his head and stared at her.

"What do you mean by 'daydream'?"

Her eyelids fluttered, and a gentle smile graced her lips. "After we bumped into each other, I caught you standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding my glass and plate. You had the same distant look on your face that you did at Macy's yesterday. I figured you must have been daydreaming again, and I didn't want to disturb you."

He considered her words. Another daydream would make sense. He had once told her that he had a very vivid imagination. Apparently, her touch could activate it as readily as his own thoughts.

He peered over his shoulder into the kitchen. Abe milled about the sink, attempting to appear as though he wasn't eavesdropping.

Henry turned back to Jo. He set to work on kneading the arch of her foot.

"How about I tell you later?" Perhaps when they had some privacy in her car.

"Must be good." The radiator cut on, nearly drowning out her voice. "I would like to hear it when we can't be interrupted."

She closed her eyes. A second later, she moaned with delight as he glided his fingers over the arch.

Henry studied Jo once more before turning his attention back onto her foot. He smiled. One day, if fate would allow them, he would like to make his daydream a reality.

* * *

Henry gazed up at the gray, four-story building. Memories of him and Abigail inspecting it when they had first moved from Brooklyn to Manhattan in 1950 flooded his thoughts. The building had been quite charming then, but it wasn't the right fit for them. Abe was growing, and he and Abigail had decided that their son had needed a proper bedroom for the first time in his life and an excellent school to attend. Although they were quite happy in their place at 69th and 2nd, they had often wondered if they had made a mistake by not finding another apartment to rent here for Abe's sake.

Henry stowed the memory back into its place. Ultimately, though, they had made the best possible choice. Abe had flourished at his school in Lennox Hill, and he had made many friends who he fondly remembered after all these years. In addition, he had met the girl who would later awaken his desires for a family of his own. Had they remained in Chelsea, who knew how the younger Morgan's life would have turned out.

Jo's door closed, and he eased around the car to join her side. He examined her feet and smiled. He had been monitoring her steps ever since he had finished her massage. So far, to his delight, the tenderness which had caused her pain had seemingly vanished.

He rolled his tongue against his cheek. "What floor does Barbara live on?" If it were on the top floor and to the back of the building, he would need to ask Lt. Reece if Jo could have desk duty for the rest of the day to prevent a recurrence of the pain.

Jo pointed up at the first fire escape on the second floor. "Right there. According to the landlord, it was the only available apartment at the time she moved into the building."

As they approached the door, Henry scoffed. "This building has always been in high demand. In the early 1950s, soldiers returning home from the war, workers from Chelsea Market, the Chelsea Piers' longshoremen, the Chelsea Hotel's wait staff, the elevated railroad's engineers, museum docents, and ushers from the movie theater on the next block competed for the few units within the building. Abigail and I…."

In the window taking up half of the door, Henry could see a middle-aged man heading toward them. _No backpack on his back or briefcase in his hand. __R__olled up sleeves __and no jacket__. Hair is slightly mussed up as though he had been running his hand through it earlier. A wide, hurrying step. Must be the landlord_.

Henry leaned over and whispered, "I'll tell you the rest later."

She nodded her acceptance, reached for her waist, and flashed her badge. The man shoved the door open.

Henry gestured for Jo to go inside. As she passed him, her hair tickled his nose, and a whiff of her shampoo filled the air. He breathed it in, noted how the scent accentuated her natural body odor, and stored it in his memory for future reference.

"Detective Martinez." The man extended his hand to her. "I wasn't expecting you to come." He nodded to Henry. "Who is this?"

"My partner, Dr. Henry Morgan. He's here to help me question Barbara Eppes."

Jo studied the man. "Mr. Marcello, what's wrong? What happened?"

Mr. Marcello ran his hand through his hair. "I, um, I…." He stepped back and leaned against the wall as though he believed it would support him. "I went upstairs to collect rent from one of Miss Eppes' neighbors when…."

Henry's heart raced in his chest. This was not how he had imagined Barbara's interview.

Jo cast a worried gaze at the stairwell. A moment later, she quickened her pace toward the stairs and whipped her cell phone out of her pocket. He followed suit behind her, resisting the urge to let Hanson know his fear with an audible sigh.

Henry's mind raced with possibilities. He swallowed. Until he could examine her, he had no way of knowing which one was true.

Jo led him up the stairs, through the short hallway, and to the ajar door. She reached under her coat and pulled her gun out of her waistband. As she checked each room, Henry noted the modern furniture which hardly made a scruff mark on the hardwood floor and the relatively few possessions adorning the apartment. From what he could see, Barbara had decided to leave Manhattan and had started packing very recently.

He peered over Jo's shoulder and gulped. What if they were wrong, and Barbara had killed Paul? It wouldn't be the first time a scorned woman had taken revenge into her own hands...and he knew that from personal experience.

As they passed the bathroom door, Henry reached for his scarf and used it to open the bathroom. He scanned the area while Jo checked it for Barbara's presence. Based on the lack of toiletries, he would say that she had planned to leave by the end of the day.

Jo lowered her gun, ran her free hand through her hair, and huffed. "I don't know like the looks of this."

Exhaling the way the police academy had taught her, she squared her shoulders and advanced to the bedroom. A glimpse of gray caught Henry's eye.

He eased away from Jo and raced to the closet. As he stepped closer, he gulped.

He reached down and checked the woman's pulse and breath. He pressed his lips together as he observed her lividity and examined her body for signs of injury.

He hung his head. The woman had died for a couple of hours before their arrival.

A shadow moved out of the corner of his eye. He lifted his head.

Jo blew out some air. "We're too late, aren't we?"

He glanced back at the woman. "I'm afraid we are."

* * *

As Jo strutted through the OCME's hallway, her heart twinged within her. She should be enjoying the relaxing foot massage that Henry had given her. Yet, finding Barbara's body had drained every bit of pleasure out of it.

She glanced over at Mike. She inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. She usually didn't mind going down to the morgue to see Henry work on one of their victim's bodies. This one, though, inexplicably felt different in her gut.

Dr. Washington strolled toward them. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and stared him down. _If he wants to make a crack_….

"Detective Martinez." He smirked at them. "It's good to see you with your real partner today. I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten who he was."

Heat surged through Jo's body. _Oh, yeah. He went there_.

She balled her fist. Her fingernails dug into her palm, reminding her to watch herself.

"Wash." She couldn't deign herself to call the man by his title or his full last name. Not today. "I'm always here for business and not pleasure."

Dr. Washington stepped in front of her and blocked her path. "I'm glad to hear that." He locked eyes with her. "Make sure you pass that along to Dr. Morgan. Rumor has it that the fact had somehow managed to elude his mind this morning."

He gave her another smirk and walked off. She fumed. That jerk knew fully well that his and Henry's boss had signed off on Henry being her official ME and on his participation in investigations ages ago. And Wash still had the nerve to insinuate that they were doing something improper.

Her knuckles quaked until they convinced her to open her hand. She flexed her fingers. What she wouldn't give to punch him right now.

Mike peered over his shoulder and turned back to her. "If Doc doesn't punch him soon, I will. Dr. Washington is getting on my last nerve. I'm tired of him stalking us every time we go anywhere in Candy's apartment, and I'm kinda surprised he doesn't follow us to the bathroom. If she hadn't canceled practice yesterday, I would've been tempted to stay home."

The few times the surly ME had cornered Mike and Lucas at practice played in Jo's mind. She cursed herself. She had been so focused on Dr. Washington's torment of Henry that she had almost missed the bullying of their friends.

The fire in Henry's eyes flashed before her. She smiled. She could hold her own in a fight, but Henry had no idea how much she appreciated his backup, even if it meant he was going "skinny dipping" again if everyone didn't watch it.

Travis and Stan emerged from Fred's autopsy room and passed by them. Jo waved hi to the assistant MEs before meeting Mike's eyes.

"When Henry gets ready to deal with Wash, he will. I have absolute faith in him."

Mike smirked at her. "You're not just saying that because you have a thing for Doc, do you?"

_Nuts!_

She resisted the urge to close her eyes and hiss the other expletive on her lips. This was going to be harder than she had thought. Mike was an excellent detective in his own right, and it wouldn't be long before he pieced together what had happened based on her and Henry's behavior and their free time. In addition, Lucas had had a couple of "aha" moments lately, and she wouldn't be surprised if he figured out his favorite ship had "set sail on the ocean of love" as easily as he had guessed Henry's immortality.

Mike's smirk grew into a grin. "Come on now, admit it. You do. I've seen the way you two have been acting since we've started caroling."

"What are you talking about?" Her stomach sank at the denial.

"You keep hanging around him when we're at Candy's place. I understand if you were discussing leads in the case or if you were heading home together—."

"You hang around Lucas while we're there."

"That's different." Mike stopped, stepped in her path, and locked eyes with her. "You acted jealous when Nadia hung around him like Lucy and Schroeder. You were a little too comfortable sitting next to him when he took over playing the piano. The two of you were glowing when you were late to practice, and you both lied about where you had spent the day. This morning, when you came into work, you had the biggest smile on your face before we updated Lieu about the leads in our other cases."

He paused and shifted his weight. "Come to think about it, this has been going on for much longer than that. You were jealous of Erica the entire year Doc was seeing her. I think I detected hints of jealousy when he had been with Molly…."

"Mike—." This was neither the time nor the place to discuss this.

He stared at her like he did at a suspect. "You wouldn't be acting this way with any other man, and you definitely weren't like this when you dated Isaac. In fact, the last time I saw you being this closemouthed about your time with someone was when you had first started going out with Sean. Why don't you want to tell me what's going on between you and Doc?"

Jo broke her gaze and peered over his shoulder. She had thought no one had noticed her and Nadia's conversation or her pleasure with being that close to Henry. And the rest of Mike's observations, especially the one about Sean, were hitting way too close to home for her personal comfort.

Henry's name on his office window stopped her from objecting or coming up with an excuse. She nudged Mike toward the end of the hallway.

"Henry's waiting for us."

They wove their way through the remainder of the hallway and crossed the threshold. As they headed for Henry's table, Jo nodded a greeting to Danny. He waved back at her before turning his attention to the body on his table.

The moment Jo stepped up to Henry's side, she sneaked a peek at the young woman lying on it. Jo's heart broke. One day, her own body would be here on an autopsy table, waiting for the ME—possibly Henry—to confirm old age as her cause of death. Or maybe to extract the bullet which had taken her life while out in the field? Or…?

She swallowed back her tears. How could she leave him when that time would come? Abigail's disappearance and death had left him so heartbroken that he had spent thirty years blaming himself for their separation. She had no idea what would happen to him if they were to….

Her eyes drifted to the tray. Her heart pounded at the sight of an extra vial of blood next to the samples. Henry wasn't going to experiment on himself again, was he?

She found Mike and studied his blank expression. She swallowed back the bile that had escaped into her throat. If he had noticed it….

Henry stopped what he was doing and looked up at them. "Detectives." He motioned for them to come closer. "You've arrived just in time."

Mike took a step back, waving his hand in the air. "No, thanks, Doc. I'll stay over here. I just ate lunch."

"Fair enough."

Jo took a deep breath. _Come on, Martinez. Get your act together. Henry needs you to focus on the case._

She rounded the corner and joined him at Barbara's head. "What did you find?"

He pointed his scalpel at the woman's neck. "Do you notice Barbara's hyoid?"

She couldn't tell what she was looking at, but she decided to humor him. "Yeah. What about it?"

"It's broken, just like Paul's." He placed the scalpel on the table. "I doubt she harmed herself. I hadn't noticed any evidence for it or to indicate that she had grasped for the threshold or her clothing racks on her way down."

He pressed his lips together and turned back to Barbara. "I found traces of carpet fiber in her nose, suggesting that she had fallen face-first on the floor before rolling on her back. Other than that, I suspect that she was strangled, but I can't determine with what."

Jo tilted her head. Something didn't sound quite right with Henry's idea….

"You don't suppose that someone had turned her over to make it look like she fell naturally?"

Henry jerked his head up, and his eyes darted from side to side before he twisted toward her. Behind his expression, she could see him turning the idea over in his head.

"When was the last time I had told you that you entered the wrong profession?" A smile played on his lips.

Her chest warmed at the implication. She started to open her mouth to tell him that it was almost two years ago….

"Guys!"

Mike's voice jarred her out of her thoughts. She spun around to face him.

She glared at her official partner. "What?"

"Would you both mind telling me what you're thinking? I can't read your minds."

Jo studied him. She couldn't decide whether he meant the case or her and Henry's exchange.

She squared her shoulders and met his questioning look. If he had meant the other, she would find out soon enough.

"If she was murdered," Henry's dulcet voice washed over her. "Her killer wanted us to believe that she had taken her own life and that the object she used had retracted into the closet as she fell. Our killer…."

Jo looked down and studied the edge of the autopsy table. Her stomach lurched toward the floor. When she had learned about his escape from Southwark Prison, she couldn't help to think that he would be willing to harm himself. Little did she know….

She sneaked another peek at the spare vial of blood on the tray. Still, his experiments on himself were occasionally an asset to them, especially when time was of the essence. She couldn't fault him for using his condition to his advantage. Besides, it could always be worse. Like Adam-level worse.

"I need to send the samples to toxicology." Henry wrapped his hand around the glass tube and slipped it into his pocket. "Due to the holiday season, I can't guarantee when the results will return, but I hope it will be before the end of the year."

Jo swallowed back the contents of her lunch. She hoped he knew what he was doing. If things went wrong, she had no idea how Lieu would react.

She turned back to Mike, hoping that he didn't notice Henry's swipe of the sample. To her relief, he had kept his eyes trained on the immortal.

"That'll be okay, Doc. We have plenty of time." Mike scratched the back of his head. "Speaking of time, do you happen to have a pair of jeans and a sweater? We don't have much time left before we start performing."

Henry's eyes widened, and he bowed his head for a moment. "Admittedly, I don't. I need to go shopping before our next practice. I don't want to scramble for them at the last minute."

Mike nodded toward Jo. "Take her with you. She could give you a much better opinion about how you look in them than Lucas and I can."

"Did someone call my name?" Lucas strolled toward them.

Henry turned to his friend. "We were just discussing my lack of appropriate clothing for caroling."

Lucas looked over at Jo. "Are you going with him?"

Jo opened and closed her mouth several times. She could not believe what she was hearing.

She huffed. It was his decision, but….

She turned to her boyfriend. "Do you want me to go with you?"

He reached behind his head and scoffed. "Would you? When are you free?"

"Tomorrow afternoon after work."

In her peripheral vision, she could see Lucas pumping his fist. "Yes."

She resisted the urge to sigh. What was she going to do with them?

He sighed and smiled at her. "Tomorrow afternoon, it is. I'll meet you upstairs?"

"That'll be fine."

As Henry directed Lucas to take the samples to toxicology, Jo left with Mike. She peeked over her shoulder one last time. She pursed her lips together. She hoped she could see him again tomorrow. If his death prompted another move, she wouldn't know what she would do.

She turned her attention back to her walk. She drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. When did dating an immortal become so complicated?

* * *

**Author's Note: **Henry's dream about his and Jo's honeymoon in Paris is definitely a daydream. As for Henry and Erica, you read that right. Kissing and PDAs are as far as they physically go in their relationship.

Information about Chelsea in the 1950s is from High Line's November, 12, 2019, article "A Brief History of Chelsea with a Long-Time Resident" and NYCREC's "A Brief History of New York City's Real Estate Market" on Medium.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: **This chapter was completely unplanned. I hope you'll enjoy it. And I hope it answers one question reviewers had left for the last chapter.

Warning: This might be a little disturbing for some people. Feel free to skip it if it gets to be too much for you. The next chapters will have a summary of what happens here.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Henry twisted the tiny vial between his fingers and stared at the red liquid sloshing around in it. He drew in a deep breath. The tragic irony of Barbara joining her beloved Paul in the afterlife did not elude him. In her last diary entries, which he had read while Jo's fellow detectives had questioned her, Barbara had mentioned her desire for Paul to arrive at her apartment and ask for a second chance with her, and the grief from losing him had been building since Jo and Hanson broke the news of his death to her. She contemplated talking to Dr. Norbert within a few days, but she felt that she could not bear to face the man who had helped her boyfriend. Feeling overwhelmed by her memories of Paul and their love, she had decided that starting over elsewhere and speaking with a psychiatrist once she had settled in was for the best. Now, if there were an afterlife, perhaps they would be reunited and would decide to spend a part of eternity with each other.

Henry blinked back his tears. How many times had he longed for a second chance with Abigail after she had disappeared? Or one with Jo after he had blown it with her? How many times had Jo regretted arguing with Sean the day before his murder? Or arguing with him when he had acted on his sense of self-preservation instead of discussing his fears with her?

He wiped his eyes. Although he and Jo had been unable to have second chances with Abigail and Sean, they had found one with each other. And, for that, he would always be grateful.

"Are you sure that you want to do this?" Abe's voice punctured Henry's thoughts.

Henry spun around and crossed the basement's floor. He met Abe's eyes as he handed the sample of Barbara's blood to his son.

"A woman whom Jo and I had intended to question died today, and, five days ago, her boyfriend had been killed. I've already pressed my luck requesting for toxicology to rush our last two victims' results. If I make another request, they would force me to wait until next month because I've 'lectured' them again."

"Two deaths in as many weeks?" Abe set the vial next to the syringe and gloves. "Don't you think Lt. Reece would become suspicious if the unis catch you again?"

Henry slipped off his shoes and socks, nudged them under the bed, and mounted the examination table. He had already crossed one line today, and, frankly, he would rather confess the entire matter—including his immortality—to Lt. Reece than to allow Jo….

"You know." Abe held out a pack of electrodes. "This isn't like the old days when you could talk the detectives out of looking deeper into your arrests. What if IA starts nosing around and discovers some of your and Jo's methods haven't exactly been legal or admissible in court?"

Henry snatched the pack out of Abe's hand. "I'm hoping the holiday traffic won't prevent you from reaching my awakening spot in time to pick me up."

"Suit yourself. Don't say I didn't warn you if Lt. Reece or IA shows up to question me about tonight's arrest."

After unbuttoning his shirt, Henry ripped the paper open, pulled off each electrode, and stuck it on its appropriate spot on his body. His stomach churned as he positioned the one that went above his scar. How many times had he slipped an extra vial into his pocket and hoped that Dr. Washington or another medical examiner wouldn't report him to their boss? How many times had he expected for one of his experiments to bring about his final death, only for it to fail when he returned in the river? How many times had he ignored Abe's desire to have his father around for as long as possible and dragged his son into another experiment against his will? How many more times must he do this to obtain relief from his painful memories and his regrets about the past?

He shoved those thoughts aside. Right now, he should be focusing his attention on finding Paul and Barbara's killer. It wouldn't do them or their families any good if his selfish ruminations prevented him from determining their cause of death.

He inspected the electrodes once more and checked to see if they were positioned correctly. Satisfied, he assisted Abe in connecting the wires to him and laid down on the examination table.

He stared up at the rafters and let his eyes roam the wood's grain. Suddenly and briefly, he could see himself lying in a casket buried in the ground. At first, the people whom he cared about visited his grave regularly. As the decades progressed, though, their increasing ages and their lives shortened the length and frequency of their time with him until they eventually stopped coming. Jo stayed with him the longest, but even she disappeared after she turned old and gray.

He looked up at the skyline. He gulped as the modern city's familiar buildings—including the shop—decayed and collapsed, and the land reverted to the wild wonderland of his youth.

His breath quickened. Was this what a permanent death would feel like? Not seeing what else life would offer him? Never doing anything with his friends and loved ones in the present ever again? For him to break Jo's heart the same way that Sean had? Waiting for everyone to join him in the afterlife, only to have a short time with them there if fate miraculously allowed it? If another world did not exist, spending eternity all alone and watching his world disappear?

His pounding heart threatened to peel off the electrode over his scar. He gulped. He had been so certain that he wanted an end to his condition. It, however, felt just as bad—if not worse—than his long life.

Abe hovered over him, a needle poised in his hand. It took Henry a moment to realize what was going on.

"Are you okay?"

Henry pulled his lips together and offered Abe a small smile. "This case has me reconsidering my position on several things."

"Not about Jo, I hope."

Henry wiggled into a better position and readied his arm. "Definitely not about her."

Henry inwardly winced at his lie. Admittedly, reading Paul's journals and seeing the similarities between the two couples had given him as much to contemplate as his and Jo's conversations during their dates. He couldn't help but to wonder if fate would grant him and Jo a different, and much happier, outcome.

Abe wrapped the rubber tourniquet around Henry's arm and tied a secured knot. Henry took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was coming.

A surge of cool liquid chased the sharp prick in his elbow. The sample traveled up his arm on its way to his heart. As it flowed, he felt himself growing calmer than he had been when he had stepped into the basement.

The heart monitor beeped rhythmically, lulling his thoughts to sleep. He closed his eyes. Death should overtake him any second.

He waited for as long as he could. The incessant but steady tone filled his ears.

_Something's__ not right__…._

Henry opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. He furrowed his eyebrows. That was strange indeed.

He rolled onto his side, watching his electrodes. He raised himself onto his elbow. His jaw dropped at the normal numbers on the screen.

He turned back over and laid back down on the hard surface. Remembering the last time Abe injected him with aconite, Henry waited a few more minutes in case the toxins kicked in later than he expected.

But the expected results never came.

He raised himself on his bed, untied the tourniquet, and pulled the electrodes off. He searched his mind for what matched his symptoms. He bit his lower lip. His hazy thoughts weren't letting him access his memory.

"What?" Abe motioned for the contents of Henry's hand.

Henry met Abe's eyes and smirked. "I can confirm neither of my and Jo's victims had taken their own lives."

He swallowed the surging pride. He lowered his eyes. "I still don't know what weapon was used to kill them."

He snorted and turned back to his son. "Lucas and I would need to re-examine their bodies for more clues in the morning. I would have to ask permission to exhume the boyfriend's body. I doubt his parents would give it to me, but it's worth a shot."

He slid off the table. To his surprise, his legs wobbled and nearly collapsed under him.

He chuckled. He should have known what was causing the sensations. He had lost count of the number of times he had been this relaxed.

"Abe, could you escort me to bed? I don't think I can make it upstairs without assistance."

Abe grabbed his father's waist, wrapped the old man's arm around his neck, and pointed him toward the stairs. "You don't think it's a delayed reaction to the poison?"

"I'm sure it's not. Still, if you don't find me in the shop tomorrow morning, you know where I'll be."

"What about your shoes and socks?"

The cool floor tickled Henry's feet, but he didn't care. "I'll get them before I change my clothes."

As they mounted the stairs, Henry groped until he found the handrail. He yawned. He wished Abe would hurry up and put him to bed. At the rate he was going, he would fall asleep on his feet before he made it upstairs.

* * *

Henry trudged down the stairs. He let loose a long yawn. Fatigue caused by a combination of the remnants of Barbara's blood in his veins and several forgotten dreams danced at the edges of his consciousness. The weariness tempted him to forget his mission and return to bed.

He took the last step, plodded over to the examination table, and fished his socks and shoes out from their resting place. He smiled. The last thing that he clearly remembered before waking up had been Abe asking him what the young man should do with them. Fortunately, Abe had chosen to respect his father's wishes than to bring the garments to the bedroom door as he usually had.

Henry flipped the shoes over in his hand for a quick inspection. Another yawn escaped his lips. He should wait to put them on later. He could use a short nap before breakfast.

He turned to leave when his chalkboard caught his eyes. Entranced by his handwriting, he drew closer to it.

He stopped at his desk and absently laid his shoes on top of a group of folders containing copies of his arrest reports from the early 1900s. His eyes darted from one white mark to another, almost as though he was looking for something.

"_Why did you choose death? What happened to you?"_

He gulped at the memory of him and Jo lying on Eric Shaw's bed while she asked him those questions. At the time, he couldn't bring himself to tell her about his condition or how the centuries had taken their toll on him. He had doubted that she would ever understand, but….

_**Abe**__**'s Antiques, New York City, October 8, 2015**_

"_Why did you disappear after our meeting with Lt. Reece?"_

_Adrenaline coursed through Henry__'s veins as Jo's voice rang out through his basement lab. He froze. She wasn't supposed to be here, especially not while he was determining how their victim's death differed from his latest one._

_He slowly turned around to face her. He lifted his lips and hoped that she wouldn__'t push the matter further._

"_I remembered that I had to run another test on Roberto's blood, so I returned to the morgue and obtained the sample before the technicians arrived to take his body to the mortician. I'll swing by Lt. Reece's office in the morning to see whether she wanted me for anything else. I assume that's why you're here?"_

_His heart pounded against his scar as though it were an angry customer at the shop__'s door. He drew in a deep breath. Jo knew his secret now, and she had accepted him for what he was. Why was he still acting as though he had something to hide?_

_She stepped toward him, her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes took in every piece of furniture as she likely had when she had searched for incriminating evidence pointing toward his involvement in the Lincoln Center Station crash._

_He twisted back to his research. He longed to step in front of it to shield his findings from her view. His feet, however, had chosen to remain in their place to prevent an arousal of her suspicions._

_She stopped, and her eyes migrated to his desk. He reluctantly followed her gaze. He swallowed the moment he realized she had noticed the vial containing a sample of Roberto__'s blood._

"_Are you going to walk me through the process of killing you since I'm here and Abe's on a date with Fawn?" She stared him down as though he was her suspect._

_Her question pierced his heart like the bullet from The Empress captain__'s flintlock pistol…both times. He closed his eyes, willing the pain to stop. What would make her think that she would feel the need to ask that?_

"_Jo…." He couldn't ask her to do that. Never in a million years could he ask her to do that._

"_Answer me." Her sharp tone slapped him out of his thoughts and ordered him to open his eyes. "How many times will you ask me to kill you in order to get results? You told me that you asked Abe to inject you with the engineer's blood when we first met, that you had planned to test the heroin you bought on yourself when we investigated Raul Lopez's death, and that you had done stuff like this on multiple occasions in the past. What am I supposed to think?"_

_Henry cursed himself. How could he have forgotten about coming clean about his potentially illegal methods of gathering evidence?_

_He took a deep breath and hoped she would believe him. __"I can't. I won't. I can't ask you to do it with the guilt you still carry from shooting Mark Bentley and from your argument with Sean before his death. If we were out in the field facing a dangerous suspect, I wouldn't hesitate to __order you to__ shoot me to save lives. But you killing me to satisfy my curiosity about the differences between my deaths and our victims'? Every time I put on the leads to my monitor, I regret asking Abe to commit patricide, and I wish I could stop myself from enlisting him in my investigations. As for you, I would __never__ consider making you my assistant. You mean too much to me, and I cannot place that burden on you.__"_

_She nodded what he had hoped was her acceptance. Every word that he had said was true. She__…._

_Jo turned and studied his board. As she read his data, he could see her dissecting her observations and examining them for evidence of his mindset._

_He stared at her. Admittedly, her skeptical nature made her one of the best in her field, and it had been the thing which had terrified him when he had come close to telling her everything about himself. He had been fortunate that she had believed him when he had finally disclosed his immortality to her. But now__…. _

_Her mouth fell open, and her larynx beat against her neck as she breathed through her mouth. She shook her head, almost as though she couldn__'t believe what she was considering. A moment later, a familiar spark ignited in her eyes._

"_Henry Morgan, what do you think you're doing?!"_

"_I…." The spark grew into a blaze and burned away whatever excuse he was about to give her._

"_You don't get it, do you?" Her growl shook him to his core. "Do you know how many people would literally kill to have what you have? Or the number of people who would love to have their loved ones come back as readily as you do?" The slight crack in her voice pricked his heart. "Or to get limitless chances at life when they screw up?"_

_She laid her hands on his desk and leaned over it as though she was interrogating him. His stomach dropped to his feet. He had never seen her that angry for as long as he knew her. Not even when she had kicked him out of her car five months ago. Not even __while she had sat__ across from her father earli__er today__ and questio__ned__ him __about__ his role in Roberto__'s death._

"_You have been given this amazing gift, and you want to throw it away? And for what? To escape your past? To stop the painful memories from coming? To stop seeing us mortals make the same mistakes you've seen because we haven't been around as long as you have?"_

_Jo glanced over his shoulder before leveling her glare at him. Henry swallowed to try to quench the dryness in his throat. If looks could kill, he would be spending tonight in jail. And, this time, he had no believable excuse to tell the judge during his arraignment tomorrow morning._

_She sized him up. __"What if you were to become mortal again? Hmm…?" She shifted her weight on her hands. "You will still lose Abe within the next five to ten years, 30 if you're lucky. You still have to watch us make mistakes while knowing you can't do anything to mitigate the consequences. Your memories and your past will still haunt you until your dying breath."_

_She broke her gaze and studied the desk__'s grain for a few seconds. "That is, if you don't take your last breath when you find your so-called 'cure'." The tears rimming her eyelids threatened to put out the roaring flame. "Do you really want to leave us with a lot of questions about what could have been? Do you want us to miss you every day of our lives? Do you want us to experience the same pain we see the families of our victims go through when we investigate a murder?"_

_Henry started to open his mouth to explain how much he missed his family and the friends who had gone on before him. How he hated the idea of losing another child and possibly never seeing Abe again. How he hated the idea of watching her and his friends die and wondering what would have happened if they had lived longer. How he hoped that, if he found a way to join everyone in the next world, the physical separation from everyone in the present would only be temporary. How, if he didn__'t become mortal again, he would be the only one who cared enough to remember that everyone living today—including her—even existed, and his grief would destroy him._

_But nothing came out._

_His knees began to buckle under him. He laid his hand on the nearest corner, hoping they would not give __way__ on him and cause him to collapse under his own weight._

_He noted how close their faces were. Ordinarily, he would have enjoyed gazing into her eyes, and he would have occasionally indulged a brief fantasy of kissing her. Her anger, however, killed any pleasure and urged him to focus on her grievances._

_Jo released her grip on the desk and waved one hand in the air. __"You know, I don't want to hear it. You'll probably give me an excuse like you did with your condition." She turned and pointed herself toward the stairs._

_Her words registered in his mind. Adrenaline once again surged through him. Every muscle in his body tensed, and the ones in his arm propelled him into an upright position. No. It wasn__'t possible. It couldn't be…._

"I believe you._"_

"If they knew more about you, their opinion would change_.__"_

"_Jo!" He didn't care if Fawn walked into the shop with Abe and overheard everything. He needed Jo to confirm his suspicions._

_She stopped in her tracks and slowly pivoted toward him. Her expression warned him to not cross her._

"_What?"_

_His soul winced at her curt tone. __"What do you mean by that?"_

"_Like what?"_

"Like what?"

_He gritted his teeth. The woman whom he had cared deeply about had betrayed him once. He wasn__'t about to let it happen again._

"_You know why I must lie about certain events in my life." A part of his mind warned him to keep his tongue, to not say something that he would later regret. Yet, Nora's and Adam's words rang louder in his memory. "If I didn't, I could lose the life I have here in New York. I—." _

_Glaring at him, she closed the distance between them. __"And you're forcing me to lie about some of the methods we use to gather evidence and question suspects." She __halted__ in the same spot she had __stood __when she had caught him with his bloodied hunting knife after Richard Smight's murder. "We were lucky that Lieu didn't kick us both off the case. I know for a fact that, next time—."_

"_The lies I need for survival are nothing like that." Henry's curt tone bounced off the basement's brick walls. "I—."_

"_Survival?" __She locked eyes with him, and all he could see was the center of her pupils. __"My dad gave me that excuse every time I pointed out that we were doing something wrong, and he forced me to lie to Mom and my siblings about our nightly activities to keep them from finding out where __our__ extra money was coming from."_

"I thought that you were a good man."

_Henry swallowed. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he had become his father._

_Jo held his gaze. __"If that wasn't bad enough, I had to lie about everything in my life to keep Sean safe. No husband should have to ask his wife to do that for him."_

_Henry swallowed. Jo had no idea how many times he had wished that he had left Abigail in Milan to prevent her from doing the same thing. __Or how many times he had wished he could have been more open with __both her and Jo__ while in public._

_Jo glowered at him. "I've spent my entire life lying about every aspect of it for one reason or another. Sooner or later, everything will catch up with me, and I will have to deal with the consequences."_

_He bowed his head. He had always worried about the day government officials, several __corporate__"representatives", or attendants from Bellevue would come and take him away from Abigail and Abe or, lately, from Abe, Jo, Hanson, Lt. Reece, and Lucas. He had believed that she would be the one to call them __upon his decision to share his story with her__…._

_She turned her gaze away from him. As she looked around the room, she huffed. Her eyes landed on his chalkboard, and she __examined__ it for a moment before turning back to him._

_She sighed. __"I don't think I can do this anymore." She lowered her head for a second._

"_You know." She looked up at him, but she couldn't look him in the eye. "I can't." With that, she spun around and walked away._

_As Henry watched her march through the basement and mount the stairs, his heart sank. A part of his mind attempted to comfort him by pointing out the two tragedies in her life and their toll on her. Yet, her words and the anger in her eyes drowned __the thought__ in the depths on his soul. _

_He closed his eyes as Nora__'s and Adam's words joined Jo's, and the overlapping conversations repeated in a continuous loop. His heart throbbed in his chest. He and Jo had never quarreled like this before. He would give anything, including his condition, to go back in time and confess the truth when she had stated she had seen him and Koehler fall from Grand Central's roof. Since he couldn't…._

"Your life is over."

_He lowered his eyes. Perhaps an eternity with Adam seemed like a good idea. At least he__…._

_The two immortals__' meeting and the search for Adam's _pugio_ crossed Henry__'s mind. He shoved the idea out of his head. What did it say about him if he was willing to sacrifice his soul for companionship?_

_Henry looked up and found where Jo had __stood__. He wiped the tears running down his cheeks. Still, it would be __a joy__ to find someone who understood what he was going through and who would comfort him when the pain from his life overwhelmed him. He had hoped that Jo would be that person. Now, though, he suspected that he had been __gravely __mistaken._

_**Abe**__**'s Antiques, New York City, Present Day**_

The memory dissolved, breaking the spell over him. Henry hung his head, and his eyes traced a path along the floor. Jo understood him more than he had ever imagined. Her short time on Earth and her work as a detective had enabled her to somehow see a humanity in him that he had believed had vanished when he had been transformed into an immortal. She understood that his condition did not exempt him from pain and suffering. Following their quarrel, she had shunned him for several days, but she had understood that he had needed time to process what he had been through over the centuries. Unlike Erica, Jo saw that even he needed healing from his past.

His eyes roamed his findings. He gulped. He wished that he had never started down this path. At one point or another, his search of a cure for his condition had pushed everyone he cared about away from him. If he continued on this path, he would indeed spend eternity alone…dead or alive.

"_You have been given this amazing gift…."_

"_Sometimes, I do wonder what other things your condition lets you do…."_

He squared his shoulders and took his eraser in his hand. Sure, he was still curious about the various aspects of his condition. But being interested in taking his life away from the people he cared about? Certainly not.

He erased the chalkboard, not bothering to record the findings on it. He could always reproduce his table if he wanted to explore a new discovery in depth. Yet, recovering his mortality wasn't worth the price of losing everyone and, especially, Jo.

Once done, he dusted his hands and grinned at the blank board. He turned around and picked up his shoes and socks. The folders peeked up at him. He rolled his tongue in his mouth. He should pack the documents and store them elsewhere in the lab. As with his Jack the Ripper notes, he could always find a more appropriate use for his research.

He yawned as he started back for his bedroom. It could wait until he came home from work. Sleep was calling to him again.

He mounted the stairs. He didn't know why, but he felt much lighter than he had been in ages.

And he wanted to keep it forever.

* * *

**Author's Note: **If you wanted to know what Henry and Jo's argument was about, this is it. I hope I've made it clear that Erica joins the team right after this, and she and Henry bond quickly over their shared preferences. For story purposes, the last time Abe injects Henry with aconite is the Pilot. All of Henry's forgotten dreams are connected to both his relationships in the present and to his thoughts during his experiment.

I did not anticipate how the second half of the chapter would turn out. I had planned for Henry's decision about his research to come well after this story ends. (Since this is set mid-Season 3, I had assumed the events here would occur about Season 4.) The possibility of Henry's decision causing problems later in the story emerged as I was writing the first half, so I went with it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note**: I hope you'll enjoy the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

"Paul and Barbara didn't take their own lives."

Henry grinned like a Cheshire cat as he maneuvered himself around Jo's desk. As he settled into the chair which she had pulled out for a witness in another case, Jo stared at him. Her breakfast sloshed in her stomach. She inwardly groaned. She had thought that she had grown used to his excitement after one of his experiments by now. Was it possible that she just pushed it aside for the sake of their relationship?

Her curiosity, however, nagged at her. She leaned forward, crossed her arms, and rested them on her desk. She raised up and scooted her rear end as close to the edge of the chair as she could get it.

"What did you find?" Although she kept her voice down to a whisper, she hoped that none of their colleagues, and especially Mike and Lieu, would overhear her and Henry's conversation.

He crossed his own arms, met her in the middle of her desk, and peered into her eyes. "They both had received a dose of valerian root before they were killed."

"And you know that from the vial of blood I saw you slip into your pocket."

He bowed his head and studied the files on her desk. "I know. I shouldn't have taken an extra sample without consulting you about it." He looked back up at her and sighed. "I merely wanted to determine whether my theory about the supplement playing a role in Paul's and Barbara's deaths was correct. I had no desire to wait until well into next month for toxicology to get around to the samples I had sent them."

Jo's lips curled into a smile. She lowered her eyes, in part to hide it. For several months after their argument, he had been hesitant to even mention his research to her. When one victim's lab results came back negative for any toxins, she had reluctantly asked him to test a sample of the victim's blood on himself. After that, he had almost always cleared his experiments with her whenever a lead frustrated him.

Squaring her shoulders, she found his gaze again. She hadn't been able to relax last night until after she had hashed everything out in her mind. She might as well tell him what she had decided while he was there.

She smiled at him. "I know what I told you about your experiments last year." She huffed. "I don't mind it when you use them in cases because they are an asset to us and to you. You don't need to ask for my permission to test a sample on yourself if toxicology decides to give you a hard time about your history lessons."

The left side of Henry's lips perked up. "I appreciate the offer. If you don't mind, I would like to continue running that decision by you. I cannot risk your career with my activities, and I prefer to have a degree of legal backing in the event that IA decides to look into your cases."

She mulled It over. His concern did have merit. She could always refuse to let him run an experiment if she felt that there were additional legal issues with the case. And her knowledge of it would keep him away from IA's scrutiny if they did come calling.

She wiggled in her chair. "I appreciate it."

A tiny splash of red on his neck stood out. She tilted her head. That looked odd.

She took his chin into her hand and turned his head to examine the streak. Then again, it didn't look like whatever had caused it had pierced the skin.

"What happened to your neck?"

He sheepishly grinned. "Lucas and I had decided to contact CSU and to re-examine Barbara's body for additional evidence. We discovered a light red streak on her neck which we had originally dismissed as damage from her fingernails. After deciding against requesting an exhumation of Paul's body and consulting the photographs we had taken of Paul's body and the ones that CSU had taken of Paul's and Barbara's apartments, we re-enacted their deaths with my scarf."

Jo's eyes quickly drifted to his neck. She resisted the temptation to pull her lips together. Speaking of which, where was it?

She looked back up at him, taking another glance at the wound in the process. She raised her eyebrows. "You let Lucas play the murderer?"

"My arms don't reach up to Lucas' neck easily. I, um…." He chuckled and ran his thumb along his eyebrow. "I might have discovered that while re-enacting Lucy Templeton's murder almost two years ago."

Jo maintained her gaze on him. She had walked into the autopsy room in time to see Henry graze Lucas' neck with the guitar fret. After she had shaken the image of him acting violently out of her head, she could momentarily see him playing cricket with a group of friends. At the time, she didn't know that the last time he had played the game had been over 200 years ago….

She narrowed her eyes. Come to think about it, Henry had pointed the fret up at Lucas to "kill" him….

"And?" She knew he was bursting at the seams with the news.

"Our murderer had drugged our victims and had returned an hour later to strangle them with a scarf." He scoffed. "It's a rather inefficient means of murder. With valerian root, a victim would maintain their faculties long enough to alert the police to a break-in. Yet, the dosages indicate that Paul and Barbara were fairly sedated at the time of their deaths."

"We saw no sign of a break-in." Her eyes darted to the side before going back to Henry. "They let their killer in, and the killer stayed until Paul and Barbara were ready for bed before taking their lives."

"My thoughts exactly. He, or she, must have used their personal scarf to strangle Paul and Barbara. According to CSU, neither of our victims owned a scarf." He rolled his tongue over his lip. "Then again, CSU didn't report Barbara having valerian root in the apartment. Either it was in her purse, or she had kept it in her car."

Images and snippets of Sean's second autopsy returned. Jo momentarily closed her eyes to chase them away.

"Or someone had brought it with them and had offered it to her."

He met her gaze. "You have a point there." He chuckled. "My nervousness about today's other task must be throwing me off my game, as Lucas has put it. I've been easily distracted all day."

Jo smiled. She had thought that she would never see the day when Lucas rubbed off on Henry just a little.

"Okay, break it up, you two." Mike's voice cut between Jo and Henry, prompting Jo to lean back and face her official partner. He smirked as he met her stare. "Don't let Lieu catch your pillow talk. She'd tell you to take it elsewhere."

Jo opened and closed her mouth several times. "Mike!" She hissed. "How dare you…?"

He set his coffee on his desk. "What? Can't I have a little fun with you two?"

She inwardly groaned. If she had thought keeping Henry's immortality from Mike would be more difficult than keeping their courtship a secret, she was wrong.

She looked over at Henry. She wanted to shake her head at his serene expression, but she couldn't out of politeness. How could he take Mike's teasing so easily?

Reminding herself that Henry had over 220 years of experience with women, she pivoted back to Mike and locked eyes with him. "We were discussing Paul's and Barbara's murders."

Mike stepped over to her desk. "And?"

Henry peered up at Mike. "Our killer had learned where Paul and Barbara lived, likely from someone in the pair's workplaces. Once the killer arrived, he, or she, disguised themselves as a friend or an associate to lower Paul's and Barbara's guards. Paul and Barbara, as natural hosts, offered them a drink, which the killer accepted. While they distracted Paul and Barbara, our killer slipped valerian root in their beverages and waited until the supplement entered their systems. When Paul and Barbara they were drowsy enough to ask their 'guest' to leave, the killer acted as though they were complying with the request. The killer seized on the opportunity and used their scarf to strangle Paul and Barbara from behind. They took their scarf with them, making Paul's and Barbara's murders appear to be suicides."

Mike put a hand on his hip. "Why is that such a huge secret? It's not like you're an alien or something, Doc."

Jo readjusted her tightening shoulders. Then again, maybe they needed to let him in on Henry's condition. It would make life so much easier.

Mike pinched his nose and closed his eyes. "Great. I'm starting to sound like Lucas."

Jo swallowed back her growing giggle. Ever since Henry had mentioned that he was immortal, she occasionally felt like they were living in whatever weird world Lucas' eccentric imagination had created.

Mike looked from Henry to Jo and back again. "Aren't you supposed to be buying fancy-pants jeans for our first performance?"

Henry squirmed in his seat. "Only after I go get my scarf." He grabbed the back of his seat and pushed himself up. "I already reported my findings to Lt. Reece, and she seemed quite pleased with them."

Jo tilted her head. How much had he told her? If he had mentioned his condition to her….

Jo could feel Henry's gaze kissing her forehead. She looked back up at him and smiled.

"I'll meet you back here in a few minutes." He slightly grimaced, as though he was displeased with their inability to kiss—even her cheek—while at work.

"I'll see you in a few minutes."

While she watched Henry leave for the morgue, Jo furrowed her eyebrows. She hadn't seen him this laid-back since…well, ever. What had gotten into him?

Checking the time, she finished her work, shut down her computer, and prepared to meet Henry. As she pulled her coat over her shoulder, she huffed. Maybe he'll tell her on the way to Paul Stuart. Knowing him, he might not be able to keep it in for long.

* * *

"What gives?"

Jo twisted to Henry as they waited for the light to change. He leaned his head back on the head rest. The smile on his lips and the light in his eyes had persisted well after they had left work. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn that he was drunk, dazed from the dose of valerian root still in his system, or under the influence of some sort of magic spell.

Henry turned to her, and his smile grew wider. "What do you mean by that?"

The light turned green. She rolled through the intersection. "What has gotten into you? I've never seen you this laid-back before."

He chuckled. "I have made two of the most impulsive decisions of my life, and, for the first time in about 200 years, I'm not worried about the consequences."

The car ahead of her stopped in front of the parking garage. She slammed on brakes, and they jerked forward as her car came to a rest.

She blinked several times as her mind raced at the possibilities of what could have happened. She breathed a sigh of relief. _Man, that was close_.

The other car budged toward Park Avenue. Jo gripped the steering wheel tighter and turned into the garage. She took another deep breath as she took a parking pass and followed the green overhead arrows pointing to the next level. _Come on, Martinez. Get a grip on yourself. You__'ve survived several attempts on your life, __including __a __kidnapping which resulted in you __crash__ing__ into the Mosholu Parkway's emergency barrier. You __shouldn't __be this nervous about nearly rear-ending another vehicle_.

She sneaked a peek at Henry, and she could feel herself leaving the fog in her mind. She smiled. He had no idea how many times he could calm her nerves with only his presence. Even if she didn't want to admit it during their first year of working together or after their argument, he had always drawn her out of her head and convinced her to focus on the present.

His words registered in her mind. She opened and closed her mouth several times. What…?

She slid into an open spot, switched off the ignition, and spun around to him. "You what?"

He met her eyes and grinned. "I've decided to stop my research into my condition. I've given it much thought, and I've come to realize that my search was causing my loved ones far more pain than I had ever anticipated when I had first begun it." He scoffed. "I still plan to log any new deaths into my journals for future reference in my work and to break out my findings when exploring new aspects of my condition. But my desire of finding a cure for my condition has vanished as suddenly as my body following a death."

Jo stared at him. "Who are you, and what on Earth did you do with Henry Morgan?"

His eyes widened. Sensing he was starting to feel that she didn't believe him, she took his hand, squeezed it, and smiled. His shoulder dropped as she squeezed his hand again.

"When did you decide this?" Her heart pounded in her chest. Had his memories of Erica yesterday morning finally convinced him to leave his past behind him?

Jo inwardly snorted. She needed to stop thinking like that about her friend. Even she could acknowledge that Erica had been good for Henry during their year together, and, like Ann and Abigail before her, the other immortal would be another chapter of his long story. If her and Henry's relationship led to marriage, she shouldn't let it bother her.

Besides, she still didn't know who had broken up with whom. As far as she knew, Erica could have discovered Henry's research, and Erica could have felt as angry and disgusted as she had at the idea of Henry wanting to end his immortality. Like her, Erica could have tried to reason with him, and, when he had refused, Erica could have decided to break up with him right then.

"Early this morning." Henry's grin grew wider. "Actually, it started with my thoughts about the case during Barbara's autopsy yesterday. After I woke up, my mind drifted to our argument."

He bowed his head for a second and sobered. "I realized that you were right. I was using my research into my condition to escape the pain and grief which would continue to haunt me even if I were mortal again. In the process, I was driving a deep wedge between the people whom I care about and myself, and I risked losing them long before death would come for them." He met her eyes. "This case has shown me that my behavior was as toxic as any poison and that, if I want a future, I would need to change my ways."

She studied him under the dim overhead lights. Was it true? Had he finally chosen life over death?

The rumble of an engine shook the car. Remembering where they were and why they were there, Jo released Henry's hand, unbuckled her seat belt, and got out of the car. "And the other?"

He met her eyes as he circled around the car to join her. "I told Lt. Reece about my condition while I was delivering my findings to her."

Jo's eyes widened as adrenaline raced through her veins. _What?!_

Her mind scrambled for her words. "How did Lieu react?"

Henry draped his arm around her waist, took a peek down each corridor, and pointed her toward the exit. He bowed his head. "She laughed."

Jo tilted her head. Did she think that he should be in Bellevue? Was Lieu calling the institution as they spoke? Would Henry find Bellevue employees waiting for him when he returned home?

He lowered his head and rested his lips near her ear. "A few weeks after we had solved Gloria Carlyle's death, Conrad had dropped by Lt. Reece's office to apologize for his behavior. As they talked, he had mentioned that, as a child, he had somewhat met me at Gloria's party. He had thought nothing of it until he had scoured the photos which the party's photographer had taken, and he had realized that the man in one photo was the medical examiner who had conducted his mother's autopsy."

Henry unbent himself long enough to nod a greeting to a passing couple. "Anyway, he showed it to Lt. Reece and confirmed that I was the same man he had met years ago. In spite of the evidence in front of her, she refused to believe him. Apparently, though, his insistence had planted enough doubt in her mind to allow her subconscious to puzzle out the truth before I had arrived in her office to confess it to her."

He nodded at another couple returning to their car. Jo glanced over the woman's shoulder in time to see the elevators emerge into view a few steps beyond them.

She nudged Henry toward them and punched the up button. As soon as they boarded the car and the doors had shut themselves tight, she leaned against the back wall and closed her eyes.

"What did she have to say about your work?" He seemed way too happy to have been fired.

"She wants me to stay on with both departments as my work has proven to be very valuable to them. And that her order to invest in some pajamas still stands."

Jo burst into laughter, causing her eyes to fly open. She inspected his shining brown ones. Was it true? Could he stay in New York for as long as he wanted without worrying about his future?

The doors opened to reveal the concrete hallway leading them to the street. She smiled as she wrapped her arm around Henry's waist. Maybe Henry was finally turning his life around. Maybe his soul was finally coming back to life. Maybe….

Jo spotted the sign for Paul Stuart. First things first, though. Although it was likely Lieu's way of telling him to be more careful with his deaths, maybe she could help Lieu literally enforce her order while she and Henry were there for jeans and sweaters. It would be interesting to see what he looked like in pajamas.

* * *

Jo looked down the brightly-lit, wood paneled hallway leading to the suit room. She gulped. The last time that she had been here, Arturo had acted as though she was breaching an inner sanctum. If she hadn't explained that they were there for a case, the tailor would have probably kicked her out of the store.

She eyed the red sofa and the pair of chairs standing as guards along the walls. Maybe she should take a seat while Henry and Arturo worked out a solution that would both please Candy and make Henry feel comfortable during their performances. Although she had agreed to go with him, she felt like she was invading his privacy.

"What's wrong?" Henry's dulcet voice wrapped itself around her and encouraged her to share her thoughts.

She glanced over her shoulder at the seats. "Maybe I shouldn't have come with you today. I…." She huffed. "I guess I'm having second thoughts about this."

Henry locked eyes with her and gave her a lopsided smile. "I want you here." He buried his hands in his pockets and lowered his head. "This is the first major addition to my wardrobe since I was handed my first sweat suit, t-shirt, and sneakers. I…."

Jo cursed herself. Why didn't she see it before?

"You feel like you're losing a piece of yourself if you put them on." His style was very modern already, but, every so often during the winter, she could imagine that his coat, three-piece suits, and scarves were the closest to what she had seen in _Pride and Prejudice_.

He gaped at her, dipped his head, and bobbed it a couple of times.

Her eye caught the suits and hats hanging on the walls. She leaned against his shoulder. "Think of it this way. You're not losing a piece of your past. You're making an investment in the future you want." She reached up and twirled her finger around a curl at his nape. "If you hate wearing them when out in public, you can always wear them on our date nights at home."

He rolled his tongue in his mouth as he contemplated her advice. After a moment, he sighed and looked up at her. "I think I can do that."

The hallway opened into a red-carpeted room lined with rows of coats and jackets in every color and fabric imaginable. Arturo stood to their left, sizing a customer's sports coat with his green measuring tape. He took another look at the mark, draped the tape around his neck, and patted the man on the shoulder. The customer removed the coat and handed it back to the other man, who gently folded it and laid it on his shoulder.

Henry squared his shoulders, straightened his back, puffed out his cheeks, and blew out some air. "Here goes," he muttered.

He schooled his features and grinned. "Arturo."

Arturo turned around, opened his arms, embraced Henry, and gave Henry a pair of air kisses on his cheeks. "Henry, I'm surprised you made an appointment on short notice. What can I help you with?"

Arturo looked over and found Jo. Her heart pounded in her chest. She swallowed. If Arturo kicked her out….

"Detective Martinez." His slightly cool tone cut through her bones like the winter wind outside. "Are you here for another murder?"

She shook her head and found her voice. "Not this time." She pointed at the hallway and looked at Henry. "I'll be over there when you need me to check you out."

As she walked back to the sofas, her stomach churned. She closed her eyes the moment she settled down onto the sofa. She hated leaving him like that. But, frankly, she felt like the only girl in an all-boys club.

Arturo laid the sports coat on a nearby shelf, took Henry's arm, and escorted him deeper into the room. Henry glanced over his shoulder at her. She met his eyes and gave him a small smile which she hoped he would accept as an apology.

Henry returned her smile and swiveled back to his tailor. The two men talked for a while. She strained to hear what they were saying, but the Christmas music and the chatter in the store drowned out their words.

A few moments later, Arturo patted Henry's shoulder, spun him around, and accompanied him down the hall. As they passed Jo, Arturo's back blocked her view of Henry. Her heart ached in her. What she wouldn't give to follow them and help him put his mind at ease.

They returned to the hallway's entrance and disappeared around a corner. She got up and studied the suits on the wall. She huffed. Then again, maybe letting him do this alone was for the best. He had updated his wardrobe many times long before her birth, and he would do it many more times long after her death. It would make no sense to change that now.

She reached up and felt the coat closest to her. She smiled. Throughout their first year of working together, she had often wondered how he was able to afford such luxury on an ME's salary. She had never guessed that he had accumulated his wealth by living on a very strict budget for decades after his escape from Southwark Prison, parting with several prized possessions before a pair of moves, a bit of inadvertent prospecting in the Klondike and in Tanzania before their gold and diamond rushes, and royalty rewarding him with a handsome payment for his services.

She stepped back and craned her neck to see if she could spot Henry. She huffed. What was taking him so long? It wasn't like he was having trouble deciding which scarf he wanted to wear to work.

She sat back down on the sofa and arranged herself into a comfortable position. She wished that Candy hadn't insisted on a more casual style for everyone. Henry had been nervous about it since the sergeant had mentioned it, and, as much as she had tried to curb her eagerness to see him in something different, it pained her to see him look so lost whenever he had thought about it.

Jo snorted. Why was _she_ suddenly so nervous about it? She wasn't the one trying on jeans for the first time.

As the memories of her and Henry's time together played in front of her, her eyes darted along the alternating wood grains. She gaped. How was that possible?

She gulped back the tears threatening to race up into her eyes. It was no wonder why she was feeling like she shouldn't be here. With the recent changes in Henry's life, she was worried that she could lose a part of him today.

Jo shook her head, chasing the thoughts away. He didn't change when the NYPD and the New York Department of Corrections had given him his first modern casual outfit. This trip shouldn't change him now.

The memory of Lucas and Mike encouraging them to go shopping together replayed before her. She grinned. Even if they had been the ones to suggest it, Henry valued her opinion enough to trust her, and not them, with this. Maybe that thought had somewhat set his mind at ease and encouraged him to go through with the task.

Footsteps echoed toward her. She twisted around and straightened her posture in case a customer had assumed that she was making herself at home in the store.

Arturo strolled around the corner and entered the hallway, his measuring tape's ends swaying with each step. He met Jo's eyes.

"May I?" He gestured toward the sofa.

Jo scooted to the end closest to the suit department. "Sure."

She eyed the man. Whether he liked it or not, she had a right to be here. She was Henry's guest, and nothing Arturo could say or do could change that.

She started to open her mouth when Arturo smiled at her. She tilted her head. When she had met him, she had assumed that he didn't know how.

He studied her for a second. "I apologize, Jo. When I first met you, I had no idea that you are the same woman Henry frequently mentions whenever he comes in for a suit."

"He's been talking about me?" She had no idea.

Arturo turned his head for a moment. "Perhaps I have said too much." He sighed, leaned forward, and placed the tips of his fingers together. "You see, a man's relationship with his tailor is about more than just the fitting of the clothes. Since the origins of our profession, we tailors know the most intimate details about our clients. Not only do we know their body measurements and their physical flaws, but we also serve as confidantes and advisers in their personal lives. It is a sacred bond which we take very seriously, a bond which can be severed only by betrayal or death." He chuckled. "It has been said that, in England years ago, some men always bought new suits when paying for their last purchase, and a few clients waited until death to settle their debts with their tailors."

Jo bit back her laugh. That would explain why Henry had decided to come here instead of going to Macy's like he had first planned. And why he visited the store as frequently as he "lost" his clothes.

Arturo peered over her shoulder and cast a wistful glance at the other end of the hallway. He started to get up from his spot. "What is keeping Henry? I left him in the dressing room before I had come here. Exchanging a three-piece suit, scarf, and coat for a sweater and the jeans shouldn't take this long."

Jo's racing heart jumped into her throat. Henry didn't decide to bolt from the store after Arturo had left him, had he?

Just as she was about to join Arturo in his hunt for the old man, Henry rounded the corner. He nodded to a passing man before grimacing and shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of the stone-washed jeans.

Jo's eyes roamed up and down his body. The dark blue sweater hugged his body as tightly as Colin Firth's wet shirt in _Pride and Prejudice._ The jeans' fabric traveled down his waist and legs as if it belonged on him. The way that the denim bunched up at his knees and ankles tempted her to spend more time admiring his legs. The only thing that threatened to jar her out of her haze was his dress shoes, but it didn't take much for her to imagine a pair of sneakers on his feet instead.

She gaped at him as she met his eyes. What she wouldn't give to grab his hand, walk out of the store with him wearing what he had on, and taking him somewhere where she could spend more time checking him out without any interruptions.

His shoulders rolled down, and he lifted the left side of his lips. "Well? What do you think?"

She blinked herself out of her haze and searched her mind for her words. "Wow!" Her hair stuck to the back of her hot neck. She reached around her head to peel it off of her. "You look great."

Arturo eased around her and approached Henry. "How do they fit on you?"

Henry examined his clothes. "The jeans are longer than I had expected, the sweater feels tight around my chest, and the sweater sleeves brush against the bottoms of my hands. Other than that, they fit okay."

"If you would like, I could take up the legs and the sleeves for you before you leave. As for the chest, I could alter a sweater in a larger size and have it ready for you this weekend."

Henry glanced back at Jo. Her cheeks warming, she blinked several times to keep her mind from wandering off.

He turned back to the tailor. "I think I'll leave them as they are. With the time constraint, I don't think it would be enough time to finish the alterations. Especially not if I purchase several more similar outfits."

Arturo peeked at her, and a slight smile graced his face. "Very well. I am glad you like them." He turned to Jo. "It was nice to see you again, Jo. This time, under far more pleasant circumstances."

He spotted a customer entering the area and made his way toward him. After he left them, Jo turned her attention back to Henry. She opened her mouth to tell him how great he looked again, but nothing came out.

He bowed his head and grinned. "Maybe I should take these off so I can buy them." He kissed her cheek. "Thank you for coming with me today."

She smiled as her words came back to her. "I'm glad you let me."

"I'll come and get you when I'm ready to select more clothes off the rack." His breath caused her skin to tingle.

As he turned to leave, she sneaked a peek at his back side. The air warmed so much that she wanted to pull off her coat. It looked just as good in the back as it did in the front.

Another man appeared in her vision as Henry rounded the corner. Jo lowered her head and pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. She shook her head. If she wanted to leave the store, she needed to get her head back in the game.

She took another look at the spot she had last seen Henry. Her heart fluttered in her chest. One thing she knew for certain. His sweat pants definitely did not do him justice.

* * *

Jo pulled the last bag out of her trunk and closed it. "Here you go."

He shook his head as he took it from her. "I usually don't purchase this many outfits. I tend to replace as many as I have lost and at least one extra from the latest catalog. But five sweaters and pairs of jeans?"

She grinned back at him. "Maybe you had a little encouragement today." She couldn't help but to notice him mentally calculating exactly how many he wanted after he had picked up three of each.

He bowed his head and grinned as he fished his keys out of his pocket. "Perhaps."

Juggling the bags, he inserted the key in the lock and backed up against the door. Once inside, he set the bags on the floor, flipped on the lights, and gestured for her to come in.

She followed him as far as his and Abe's chess table. He studied her. "What are your plans for tonight?"

"After parking my car?"

He nodded.

She huffed. "I haven't thought that far ahead. I had been so busy with my other cases that I hadn't had time to think."

"This has been the first break you've had all day." He stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled up to her.

She nodded. "Aside from lunch, which wasn't much, yes."

He took her waist in his hands and drew her close to him. He brushed her hair off her face and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes and smiled as her thoughts stilled. What she wouldn't give for him to do this every time she needed comfort.

"Go home." His low dulcet voice encouraged her to open her eyes and to look into his. "You need your rest. If you would like, we'll do something on Sunday if you are free."

"I would like that."

She bit her lower lip. It was another thing that she had always wanted to do, but she had never had the chance. "Do you suppose we could ride the Holiday Nostalgia train?"

He smiled. "Part of your lifelong 'Christmas in New York' experience?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "It is."

"We'll do that." He kissed her on the cheek. "I'll see you then if your cases don't take precedence over practice."

"I'll let you know if the situation changes." She gave him a peck on the lips. "Get a good night's rest yourself. You've had a big day today."

She headed back to the door and left the shop. After parking the car, she returned to her apartment. She pulled off her coat, hung it in her closet, and grabbed a sweater and leggings.

She quickly changed into the clothes and moved into the living room. She bunched her hair in her hands and let it drop onto her shoulders. She happily sighed. She couldn't believe it. She had never thought she would live to see the day when Henry would decide to leave his research behind and to take steps toward a new life, but she did. And, quite honestly, she couldn't be happier for him.

She smiled as she surveyed the apartment. Furthermore, she enjoyed the peek into their future. Sure, he was taking his first steps into the 21st century. But he was still the same quirky man she had always known. The same man whom she wanted to get lost in Paris with. The same one whom she….

She looked over, and the entertainment center caught her eye. She stepped over to it and ran her fingers along the DVDs until she found the one she wanted. She pulled it out, removed the disc, and inserted it into the DVD player. She snatched the remote, headed to the sofa, and settled herself on it. She smiled as the opening credits to the first episode of _Pride and Prejudice_ rolled on the screen. She was under doctor's orders to get some rest, and she had every intention of following them.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Arturo's comments about the tailor-client relationship are inspired by John R. Tunis' "Sporting and Mufti Tailor" in _Esquire_, May 1937, Volume 7, pages 53, 206, and 210; available on Google Books. (The last line is a paraphrase of a paragraph in the article.) Henry's new sweater and jeans are found on Paul Stuart's web site. I wish I could access their Fall 2016 catalog, but I couldn't find a free copy to browse online. (They were for sale on eBay, though.)

Henry's inadvertent prospecting involves him picking up several samples which fascinate him and showing them off to more knowledgeable friends in the region. His knowledge of both countries forms the basis for my head canon.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note**: Sorry this chapter took a little longer than expected, especially with writer's block and helping Dad knock off several items on his "to do" list. I hope you'll enjoy it.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

The hisses, groans, and grinds of the subway train echoed in Henry's ears as he followed Jo up the stairs to Candy's apartment. He grinned. In each of the eight cars they had explored, he had felt as though he was going back in time. To times in which he had felt the most peace and joy in his life. Times in which he had begun to believe that anything was possible. Times in which he had wished that he could capture each moment and inhabit them for all eternity.

Jo rounded the corner and mounted the second set of steps. He shook his head, and his chest filled with warmth which caused his grin to grow wider. Perhaps fate had possessed wisdom in refusing to grant his wish for time to stand still. If it had, he would have never seen Jo's glowing countenance as she took in the now antique cars pulling up to the sop and the MTA workers dressed in period attire stepping onto the modern platform. Or to have heard the wonder in her whisper as she had asked him about the long-forgotten advertisements on the overhead placards and about the layout of the car. Or to have witnessed her own trip down memory lane as she sat in one of the plastic seats and told him a story from her life in East Harlem. Each moment with her as his companion had been a gift which he would cherish for the rest of his days.

A wet chill brought him out of his reverie. He reached up and wiped the bridge of his nose. He studied the droplet on his fingertip. Was it a melted snowflake, or was it from the icy fog which had followed them during their walk? He had been so engrossed by their conversation that he had barely noticed the weather.

Jo huffed. He tilted his head. She had been ebullient moments earlier.

"What's wrong?"

She stopped on the landing. Her eyes met his as she bounded up the last two steps.

"I was thinking about our case."

Henry turned around, dropped himself onto the closest step, and gestured for her to come over. She started to open her mouth to protest. He gently enclosed her hand with his and tugged at it.

"We have time." He gave her a lopsided smile. "Come on. It looks like you need to unburden yourself."

She relented and lowered her body next to his. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and drew her close to him. He briefly closed his eyes as the memory of comforting her following Aaron Brown's death warmed him. His heart had broken as her grief had drained her of her strength, and she crumpled against his side. His arm acted on its own and wrapped itself around her shoulder. When she had laid her head on his shoulder, it had felt as though fate had given its blessing to them.

She huffed again and wiggled deeper into his embrace. "I'm not looking forward to tomorrow." Her upturned eyes begged him to direct his gaze down to her eyes. "Mike and I are going to see Paul's and Barbara's bosses and ask them about their work relationships. Paul had claimed neither of them had done nothing wrong in their romance. I can't shake the feeling that someone had objected to them being together."

"Someone other than Marcia?" Paul's description of Marcia's confrontations had unsettled Henry in the same way as his memories of Nora's denial of his condition.

Jo nodded. "Someone should have known that they were dating. There is no way that everyone in the area had ignored the timing of their lunch breaks, their weekends together, or the time they had spent together outside of work. Even if they had lied about seeing each other, someone had to pick up on the signs."

"You're looking for their Dr. Washington."

She glowered at him. "Don't ruin the remainder of my good mood. Mention his name again, and you'll end up in the river."

Henry bowed his head. "Understood."

Jo tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. "When I interviewed Barbara's parents over the phone the other day, they couldn't think of anyone who wanted to hurt either Barbara or Paul."

"And Paul's parents?" The tight-knit nature of the friendship between Paul's mother and Marcia had reminded Henry of his father's continued partnership with the man whose affections his younger sister Grace had spurned. Fortunately, Grace's intuition had spared her from the heartache of seeing the cad eventually cheat on her with a woman other than his wife. When the elder Morgan had learned of the affair, he had terminated all business dealings with the man's company.

"I tried calling them, but I didn't get an answer. It looks like I need to pay them a visit this week."

She twisted toward the next landing. "I wish I knew where we're performing. It would make life easier if I knew when to go to their apartment."

He glanced over his shoulder and kissed her on the forehead. "Let's go find out."

He released her, pushed himself up, and helped Jo to her feet. She smiled at him before leaning over and kissing his cheek. "Thanks. I'm starting to feel better already."

She pointed herself toward the floor and mounted the step. "Does Arturo know about your condition?"

Henry slightly shook his head as he rested his hand on the small of Jo's back. "He doesn't. As far as he knows, my measurements haven't changed since he had first altered my clothes. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious. You shop there so much that I figured you must have dropped a hint or two about why your body is the way it is."

His scarf chafed his neck as his mind found his and Arturo's conversation about his new clothes. He reached up and scratched the skin under the irritating fabric. When Lucas and Hanson had suggested that Jo should accompany him on his shopping trip, he had hoped that she would agree to it. He wouldn't have minded his male friends coming with him, but he knew that Jo wouldn't have compared her measurements with his as Lucas was so fond of doing.

The thought of Jo knowing his physical flaws steered Henry toward a fog in his mind. He….

His foot caught on the step, jerking him out of his haze. He caught himself before he spilled into her.

Henry viewed the back of her head as they rounded the last corner. He blinked several times and shook his head to clear the remaining cobwebs from his mind. How she could influence him like that, he would never know.

* * *

Joyful rock music flowed out of Candy's door and into Henry's ears. He groaned as he and Jo untangled themselves from each other's grasp. He wished that they could turn around, head over to a park near the shop, and spend the rest of the evening there. Or, if they found the outdoors too cold for their liking, they could pick an apartment and enjoy each other's company in the comfort of their own home.

Reminding himself of Jo's mission the next morning, Henry squared his shoulders and gathered his courage. As much as he hadn't wanted to admit it, the uncertainty surrounding their other performances had nagged at him whenever he had dwelt on singing in front of an audience. Although enough time had passed for most of Abigail's and Abe's generations to have forgotten about him, there were those who, like Conrad, had unwittingly tucked one memory of him away in their minds, saving it for another chance encounter with him. He had no idea who could recognize him, and their possible reactions had threatened to overwhelm him no matter where he was.

He opened the door and smiled at Jo when she passed by him. As they were now, memories of her had laid a finger on his swirling thoughts and shushed them into submission. Only afterward could he find the strength to continue with his task.

He followed her inside, shut the door, and strolled over to the other coats. He pulled off both coats and his scarf and set them with the rest. He reached down to take his watch's fob and unlatch it from the buttonhole. His fingers, however, found air where his vest would have been.

His shoulders sagged in relaxation. Given the day's activities, he had decided on a more casual, yet still stylish, look, and he had slipped the heirloom into his pants pocket. He must have forgotten about it during his and Jo's walk to Candy's building.

Henry smoothed his shirt and strolled toward the group of men gathered near the refreshment table. He exchanged smiles and a wave with Fred and Danny. They were pleasant company to keep both during rehearsal and the few times in which he had bumped into them in the OCME's hallways. Perhaps, when Jo, Abe, Lucas, and Hanson had other plans for the evening, he could go out for drinks with them.

He studied the spread of snacks on the table before surveying the room for Jo. She reached behind her ear while she spoke with Nadia and Rachel. She glanced over at him, smiled, and returned her attention to her companions.

His eyes barely left her side. Perhaps they could go to either apartment after practice. They should extract as much pleasure in being together as they could in the remaining hours of the weekend. Perhaps it would make the week feel quicker.

Nadia sneaked a peek at him. He shook himself out of his thoughts and peered out the window at the falling snow. He should ask Jo if she would be interested in the idea when they took a break.

Turning back to the table, he shifted his weight and rolled his tongue against his cheek. He should select her favorite cookies, pour a cup of eggnog, and bring them to her. It would keep her from interrupting her conversation and the foundation of a possible friendship or two with the uniformed officers.

He reached for the napkins….

"Dr. Morgan." Henry's body froze at the iciness in Dr. Washington's voice. "Who are you attempting to impress with your lack of a vest tonight? Detective Martinez?"

Henry's blood roiled to a boil. He balled his hand into a fist in hopes of remaining calm. _Not tonight. Please, not tonight. I was looking forward to a peaceful evening with Jo after we leave here._

"You haven't answered my question."

Henry felt every eye on him. He pulled his lips together, swallowed back his emotions, and hoped that the infernal medical examiner wouldn't notice his growing anger.

He slowly pivoted toward Dr. Washington. "Why do you care to know? My attire is none of your concern."

"Do you care about your job?"

_My job?_

Henry stood as tall as he could, squared his shoulders, and locked eyes with Dr. Washington. "I don't know what you are talking about."

Dr. Washington took another long step toward him. "I should report you to Human Resources. For the past seven and a half years, you've ignored law enforcement's suspicions and conducted your own unauthorized investigations into the individuals' causes of death. You've wasted OCME resources on your insane theories, and I have personally lost track of the number of times you had convinced the detective assigned to the case of the accuracy of your suppositions. Furthermore, you have begun to influence your assistant to behave in the same manner as you…."

Henry willed himself to keep his gaze trained on Dr. Washington and to not react. Although he had worried about his ability to corrupt Lucas after the young man had stolen Adam's _pugio_ from the NYPD's evidence room, Lucas' spontaneous and verbose confession to Jo several days later had reassured the immortal that Lucas' conscience would not permit him to live a life of crime.

Dr. Washington closed the distance between them. "Moreover, you have managed to ingratiate yourself to a homicide detective and manipulate her into letting you have free rein in her assigned work. Perhaps you've induced her by having nightly rolls in the hay with her, or had that started recently?"

Henry narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. The next thing he knew, he swung his arm, and his knuckles made contact with Dr. Washington's jaw. The other medical examiner staggered away from the snacks and fell face-first onto the floor.

Pain shot through Henry's knuckles and wrist. He wiggled his fingers and twisted his arm as he watched Bert and Hanson help the man to his feet. _Man, that felt good. I__'ve wanted to do that for a very long __time__._

Glaring at Henry, Dr. Washington balled his fist, writhed out of his handlers' grasp, and lunged at the older man. "Why you…."

"Harold!" Candy's voice rang through the apartment like a gunshot. She pointed at the door as she marched toward the group. "I want you out of here _now_."

Dr. Washington shifted his weight onto his foot, propped his fist on his hip, and locked eyes on her. "I—."

Candy glowered at the man. "You've been antagonizing Henry and your colleagues since you've first joined us. I will not tolerate your behavior. It is both unprofessional and demoralizing. As far as I'm concerned, you will no longer be a part of our group. In addition, I will notify your boss about what has happened tonight and let him deal with you accordingly."

Dr. Washington opened his mouth and decided against his comment. He stomped over to the coats, thrust his hand into the pile, and yanked his out from its midst. Jerking the coat on, he scowled at Henry before turning around and leaving.

The moment the door closed, the room erupted into cheers and applause. Henry swallowed, and his eyes found the hardwood floor. Perhaps he shouldn't have allowed his anger to get the better of him. As far as he knew, Dr. Washington would be reporting him tomorrow morning as well, and, given the other medical examiner's powers of persuasion, Human Resources would be looking into his use of OCME resources. They would discover the additional orders for test tubes to replace the ones he had swiped for his experiments, and….

He heaved a quiet sigh. Why couldn't he trust the department and the process? He could claim that he had taken them for chemical assays which he had conducted at home. Yet, they would never believe him. They….

"Peas or ice water?"

_Huh?_

He searched for the voice. He looked down and noticed a worried Candy.

His mind scrambled to process her question. He gave her a lopsided smile.

"You don't have to. I'll be fine. If it bothers me, I'll wait until I…."

Candy drew herself as tall as she possibly could, but the top of her head came up to his chin. He swallowed back his amusement to keep from insulting the sergeant with it.

"Your knuckles will swell before you get home if you don't." Candy's no-nonsense tone suddenly reminded him of Lt. Reece. Her gaze softened. "It's something I picked up from my first few times hitting a punching bag. Now, which is it? A pack of frozen peas or a bowl filled with ice water?"

His fingers ached, and a sharp pain prevented him from flexing his knuckles. She was right. Abe would fuss over him the moment he would see the injury. And, knowing his son, Abe would have something to say about his father's bout with Dr. Washington.

Henry took a deep breath and smiled at Candy. "Ice water would be fine."

She gestured toward the piano. "Take a seat over there, and I'll be right back." She eased around him and directed herself toward the kitchen.

He proceeded to the piano. Fred snatched a chair out for him and set it beside the piano stool while Travis and Stan clapped him on the back and shoulder and congratulated him.

"Way to go, Henry." Danny patted him on the back of the shoulder. "You sent Wash packing. About time he left us alone."

Lucas wove his way through the group. "Okay, okay. Let the Big Guy through."

He squeezed himself between Candy's detectives, took Henry's arm, and guided him away from the men. Halfway across the room, he leaned over Henry's shoulder. "Nice punch. I didn't know you had _that_ in you."

Henry glared at Lucas. After all of the times in which Lucas had played the victim during their re-enactments, was the young man calling him a weakling?

Hanson held the chair for him. Henry shoved his thoughts aside, smiled at Hanson, and settled in the seat.

"Nice punch." Hanson tapped Henry on the shoulder twice before joining the rest of the group.

He glanced up, and he was greeted by the sight of Nadia, Rachel, and Fred coming toward him. He inwardly cringed. He hadn't received this much attention since the precinct had ribbed him about his "skinny dipping" last year.

Nevertheless, he smiled and dipped his head as they voiced their approval of his actions while en route to select their snacks. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but a small part of him was basking in their praises.

Another sharp pain shot through his fingers. He grimaced, shook his hand, and hissed as softly as he could. He definitely shouldn't have thrown a punch. The last time he had punched someone—when a former SWAT officer had insulted Molly—he had difficulty sleeping that night because of the pain.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jo squatted in front of him. He lifted his head and smiled at her.

She took his hand into hers. He relaxed his fingers and briefly closed his eyes as the heat from her palms flowed into his ancient bones.

"How does your hand feel?" She tilted her head. "Is anything broken?"

He examined his hand and noted the position and feel of each finger. He pulled his lips together before curving them into a smile.

"From what I can tell…." Ignoring the pain, he flexed his fingers. "Nothing feels broken. It appears that I managed to avoid a boxer's break. I won't know if it is for certain until morning, though."

"Sometimes I wonder if I should've listened to my mother and become a kindergarten teacher."

Jo pushed herself off the floor. Henry twisted around and bit back his smile.

Candy eased around the snack table, balancing a large plastic bowl in her hands. "I should have kicked Harold out after the first practice. I kept hoping that he was having a bad day at work or that the rumors about his attitude weren't true. I shouldn't have let his behavior go as far as it did."

Henry offered her a small, apologetic smile. "It's partly my fault as well. Dr. Washington has antagonized me since almost the moment I had first stepped foot in the OCME." He sneaked a quick peek at Jo and gave her a look which he hoped would let her know his intentions. "I should have been more proactive in heading off trouble from him. No one should've witnessed that."

Candy started to hand him the bowl. She hesitated and passed it to Jo. Jo helped him situated it on his lap and held it steady for him until he clenched the rim with his other hand and moved it higher onto his legs.

He touched the icy mixture with the back of his hand. Hoping no one saw him, he gritted his teeth and muffled the grunt in his throat. The sting overpowered any sensation in his hand, forcing him to yank his hand off of the traditional treatment. Winter's frigid waters were far more tolerable than this.

He squared his shoulders, lowered his hand again, and gently set it on top of the ice. Feeling better, he propped his elbow on the bowl's rim and leaned again it to support his forearm.

Jo met Candy's eyes. "Did you find out anything about the other performances?"

Candy grinned. "I have."

She motioned for everyone to join them at the piano. Once everyone had gathered around, she stood as tall as she could and clapped her hands in front of her.

"Do you remember how I said that I hadn't heard anything back from anyone last week?"

Everyone muttered a variant of "yes" or nodded.

She met Henry's eyes, smiled at him, and turned back to everyone. "I finally heard back from two people last Tuesday evening. We will be performing for the seniors at the Harmony Thompson Nursing Center tomorrow—."

Everyone else's reactions grew muffled as the word registered in Henry's mind. His eyes grew wide. No, they couldn't be performing _that_ soon.

The rattling and bumping of the ice against each other and the bowl jerked him out of his state. He looked down and grabbed the bowl before it spilled on the floor.

He studied the group and let out a sigh of relief. Everyone else was attuned to Candy's words.

She eyed each of them. "I know. It _is_ on short notice. Everyone sounds good, and I think we can give them an excellent show." She smiled. "Besides, I don't think anyone will notice a mistake. They're used to children's choirs. From the sounds of things, they're looking forward to something different."

Henry nodded. The lone time in which Abe and his classmates at PS 6 had performed for their parents, the children's singing had been an utter cacophony. It had taken everything in him to not grimace or stop his ears for the sake of the children.

The location lodged in his mind. His heart started racing. A nursing home. That meant….

He swallowed. How many people had known him and Abe from long ago? And how many former neighbors and associates were looking forward to hearing how he, Abe, and Abigail were faring?

"And the other?" Henry asked mostly to distract himself from his growing concern.

Candy peeked over her shoulder, met his eyes, and gave him a slight nod. "We'll also be performing at the King of Hope Church in Two Bridges on Thursday. Ordinarily, they would have a Christmas cantata this weekend. However, their choir director is battling a case of the flu, and they had to cancel this year. The Reverend MacNeilly informed me that he hated the idea of everyone missing out of the tradition, and he gladly accepted the offer to hear us sing. If anyone has an issue of being in a church, let me know, and we'll see what we can do to accommodate you."

Henry eyed her as she pulled out the piano stool and took a seat. He swallowed again. A church congregation wasn't much better, but he'll cross that bridge when he came to it.

"Shall we begin?"

As Candy instructed everyone to open their packets to the first song, Henry sneaked a peek at Jo. She raised her eyebrows at him. Although she was attempting to hide it, he could see her own concern for him and their performance tomorrow in her eyes.

He gave her a small smile. They would discuss it later. Perhaps they could come up with a solution to their problem.

His fingers grew numb. He removed them from the ice water and shook them, hoping he could regain the feeling in them.

The memory of punching Dr. Washington reappeared before him. He grimaced. Make that two problems. He might be out of work tomorrow.

* * *

Henry chased the aspirin down with a long draught of water and set the empty glass in its spot next to the sink. The bitter, metallic taste of the residual powder clung to the back of his throat and to his tongue. He wrinkled his nose, squinted, and used his teeth to scrape the mess off his tongue. No matter how many times he had tossed a pill into his mouth, a trace of the powder still managed to stick somewhere in it.

Once he resigned himself to experiencing an aftertaste which could overpower him when he kissed Jo good night, he squared his shoulders and left the bathroom. He hated taking something for the pain. He would have preferred to wait it out, but, with hours before their first performance, he needed a quality sleep before he could appear in public.

He wiped his face with his left hand. He and Jo had discussed several options, believing that any of them would provide him with a plausible excuse for either his continual youthful existence or his one-night absence from the group. So far, neither of them had come up with anything satisfactory.

He huffed as the kitchen emerged into view. It appeared as though that he must risk a public discovery. Hopefully, anyone he knew or had treated as a practicing physician lived or worshiped elsewhere, and he would not need to explain himself.

Henry rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen. He leaned against the banister, crossed his arms, and watched Jo as she closed the freezer door, took a bowl to the sink, and filled it with water. His heart leaped into his throat. They had been professional partners for two and a half years. It would feel strange to not travel to work together or to see each other at work later this week.

She spun around, and her eyes met his. She gave him a small smile and tilted her head toward the table. He nodded his acknowledgment of her request and followed her over to it.

Once settled into their seats, he laid his hand on the ice. As the cold water touched his hand, it sent a strong tingle through his fingers. He hissed and removed his hand as quickly as he could. He glanced at an expectant Jo. Gritting his teeth, he slowly lowered his hand back into the icy water.

A smile quirked on her lips. "With all of your 'skinny dipping', I thought you could take cold water."

His eyes traced a path along her smile, and his objections faded from his mind as rapidly as they had formed. He bowed his head, bobbed it a couple of times, and smiled.

"I can. The frigidity of the coldest body of water does not compare to this." He nodded toward the bowl. "Having my mind and my hand numbed is not my ideal way of spending the evening."

Jo crossed her arms and leaned over them. She was so close to his face that it wouldn't take much for him to stretch himself and permit her kisses to numb his mind in a much more pleasant manner.

Her smile shined under the kitchen lights. "And how would you prefer to spend your evening?"

His eyes danced among hers, and his heart drummed a rhythm for them. His breath quickened. What he would give to one day show her what he frequently envisioned since he had first acknowledged his feelings for her.

Ice fragments knocked against his hand, reminding him of their presence. He shook himself out of his thoughts and waited for the rest of his mind to wake up.

Henry peeked down at his hand, and water formed along the rims of his eyes. Why did he jeopardize his career? There were other ways to deal with Dr. Washington. He should have never resorted to violence.

"What's wrong?" Jo's eyebrows turned up, and she frowned. "You're quiet all of a sudden."

Henry swallowed back his tears. "I—."

The doorbell downstairs jingled. Henry closed his eyes, leaned back in his seat, and blew a puff of air out of his nose. _Thank goodness._

A series of heavy footsteps grew louder. Henry repositioned himself and wished that Abe would ignore the scene for the time being.

"How was the estate sale in Chelsea?"

"Awkward." Behind him, Henry could hear Abe pull his coat off and sling it onto the island's chair. "I found myself trapped between The Frenchman and the Berkowitz brothers all evening." Abe appeared on the other side of the table, planted one hand on his father's usual chair and the other on his hip. "If there weren't for several nice vases, a silver charger, and a collection of first editions that I had my eye on, I would've beaten a hasty path out of there and called it a night."

Abe's eyes darted from the bowl to Henry, then to Jo, and back to Henry. "Am I interrupting anything?"

Henry exchanged looks with Jo. After a silent conversation, he nodded and tipped his head toward the younger Morgan.

"You're not." Jo patted the table at Henry's spot. "We want you to stay."

Abe whipped out the chair and settled into it. He studied them. "What happened?"

Jo's countenance glowed as her smile grew brighter. "Henry punched Dr. Washington tonight."

Abe folded his hands, leaned over his arms, and smirked. "About time someone put him in his place. He has been harassing you for ages. He…."

Henry cast a sideways glance at Jo. It suddenly hit him that tonight could be the last guaranteed night he would ever have with Jo.

"He—."

"Abe!" Henry ignored his snap and his raising voice. "After tomorrow, I may no longer be working with Jo or the OCME."

Abe startled himself into an upright position. After a moment, he met his father's eyes. "Wait. Are you saying that Dr. Washington could use this—." He gestured to the bowl. "—against you?"

Henry squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and gathered his courage. He might as well tell Abe now. It would be futile to postpone the inevitable.

"He indicated that much when he had threatened to report my work with Jo and Hanson to Human Resources." He huffed. "I never imagined that he would drag Jo into our hostilities…."

"_I choose insanity. Welcome back, Henry."_

Henry broke his gaze and stared into the bowl of water as though it held the answers he needed. All of this was his fault. Perhaps Dr. Washington had a point. Perhaps he should have remained within the professional confines of the OCME. If he had, Jo's reputation would have remained unsullied.

Henry felt Abe's eyes boring through him. He raised his head, and Abe locked eyes with him.

"I thought your boss was okay with your consulting work."

_I thought so too._

Henry heaved a sigh. "If I conducted autopsies the same way Dr. Washington does, I would have been either sued or fired long ago. Somehow, Dr. Washington had convinced our boss that his experience knowledge was enough reason to retain him." Noting the crack in his voice, he looked over his shoulder in hopes of regaining his composure. "I don't know what I'm going to do."

Fingers wrapped around his and squeezed them. He followed the hand back to its source.

Jo offered him a small smile. "You know Lieu will keep you on as an official consultant if the OCME fires you. She likes you and your work too much to let you go so easily."

He flipped his hand over and returned the squeeze. "I appreciate the thought. I—."

He stopped himself. How would he prevent a repeat of tonight? Or of his search for Adam's _pugio_? His anger had gotten the better of him in the field several times before. Surely….

"Take it, Pops." Abe's voice begged Henry to listen to him. "You won't be happy unless you have a mystery to solve." Abe perched one hand on the back of the chair, leaned back, and grimaced. "Besides, you'll be back to autopsying rats and Sherlocking potential customers if you don't."

Henry burst into laughter, joining his guffaw with Jo's giggles. Abe knew him all too well.

Henry rolled his tongue in his mouth. Working as an official consultant would have its advantages. He would have more time to follow a lead, and he would continue to accompany Jo into the field. In addition, he would have more time to pursue a relationship with her and see where it went.

He sighed, happily this time. "I think I will take you up on the offer. And thanks for the reminder about Lt. Reece's acceptance of me."

Jo squeezed his hand again. "Don't mention it."

He gazed into her eyes. _What would I ever do without you?_

Realizing he couldn't feel his other hand, he pulled it out of the water and wiped on his pants. He wiggled his fingers and willed them to warm.

Once he started to regain sensation in them, he turned his attention back to Abe. "I hate to ask, but how many things did you bring home?"

Abe readjusted himself. "About everything I wanted."

His eyes glazed over, and he grew quiet for a moment. "You know, I witnessed something weird while I was packing one of the vases into my car. This couple behind me had mentioned two of their colleagues had seemed to vanish into thin air. I turn around in time to see another man walking up to them and demanding to know what they had heard. The first man got in front of his wife…girlfriend…finance…. I don't know. Anyways, I could tell that he thought she could have been in danger."

Henry's spirit quickened in him. He and Jo exchanged looks. Were they wrong about the motivation behind Paul's and Barbara's murders?

"And?" _Don__'t make us wait for the continuation of your story._

Abe swallowed. "The first guy told him that they had heard rumors, nothing more. The other guy acted like he didn't believe them, but, when he had seen the woman nod, he backed off. The first guy took the woman and headed back to their car. As they passed me, they appeared pretty nervous about something."

Henry leaned forward. "Tell us everything else that you saw or heard from them tonight."

Abe narrowed his eyes. "Why would you want to know?"

Jo twisted around and reached for her phone. "It could help us with the case we're investigating."

"Okay." Abe drew out the word. "If you insist."

As his son told them everything he could remember, Henry's pulse raced through his body. He had believed that his life would have been ruined by his actions tonight. Instead, it appeared that perhaps fate was granting him another wish. Perhaps it was allowing him to have a sense of normalcy for the first time in decades.

Abe mentioned Paul and Barbara's names. Henry inched closer to the edge of his seat. Perhaps they were a step closer to solving their latest case as well.

* * *

**Author's Note: **The information about the Holiday Nostalgia Train is from Ben Gilbert's article "New York City's secret subway line with antique cars is back in service—here's what it's like to ride it" in _Business Insider_ (published December 11, 2019). Candy is 5 feet, 2 inches (157.48 centimeters) tall. The height requirement for a female officer in the United States is typically around 5 feet, 7 inches (170.18 centimeters). For story purposes, Candy enters the academy when the NYPD had loosened the standards to attract more officers.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note**: Sorry this is _**way**_ late, but life, current events, and a bit of a writer's block hitting as I was writing the third part of the chapter took over. I hope that you will enjoy the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Jo stared up at the grayish-white, four-story building as she closed her door. She shivered and drew her arms against her sides. She didn't know which was colder: the late afternoon air or the sense of foreboding that was washing over her the longer she looked at it.

"Is it me?" Jo snapped her head around to face Mike. "Or does this place remind you of the morgue?"

"I don't think the architects thought about the building's appearance when they first built it." Besides, Henry could tell them more about it when he got there. It looked old enough for him to work there in the 1950s.

She swallowed and searched the parking lot for the OCME's van. That is, if he even showed up. Either Dr. Lippmann had fired him for punching Dr. Washington or Henry had decided not to risk exposure. In any case, it would be pretty lonely if he weren't here with them.

She spied Candy and her two detectives, Sarah and Colleen, climbing out of her car. Sarah spotted Jo across the parking lot and waved. Jo waved back and quickly returned her hand back in its spot in her pocket.

She squared her shoulders and gathered her courage. She might as well join them. She had been considering this before she had known that Henry was joining them, and he would tell her to go ahead and perform without him if he chickened out tonight.

"Looking around for your boyfriend, Jo?"

Jo spun around and locked eyes with Nadia. She opened and closed her mouth several times. How did Nadia find out about her and Henry so fast?

Reminding herself of her circumstances and of Nadia's earlier assumption, Jo took a deep breath. "Henry and I aren't seeing each other. We're friends. That's all."

Her stomach churned at her lie. It was already hard enough when she covered for him during a case. But about their relationship? How much longer was she going to do this?

"It didn't look that way last night when you helped Henry with his hand. Or the look you kept giving him all through practice. If I didn't know any better, I would swear that you enjoyed him defending you."

"Nadia," Jo shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. "Dr. Washington has been at Henry's throat ever since I've known Henry." To this day, she could see the other ME's simmering indignation when Henry had thoroughly destroyed his theory about Jason Fox's murder. After he had left Henry's autopsy room, Jo had sensed that it hadn't been the first time the two MEs butted heads. "It was only a matter of time before they came to blows."

Her chest warmed. It didn't mean that Nadia wasn't right. She had totally enjoyed Henry giving Dr. Washington what he deserved after Wash's infuriating comment about her and Henry's partnership.

"Speaking of Harold," Rachel pointed the group toward the road. "It's going to feel weird not having him here. He kept a decent beat with the bells, and we still need someone to hand out programs and packets."

"We'll manage." Mike stepped back to let the women by. "Our singing sounds better without the bells if you ask me. Besides, Candy probably already has someone in mind to pass the papers out."

Jo bit her lower lip and nodded. She had listened to them last night, and she had to admit that the bells distracted her from everyone else's voices. As for the packets, Candy probably had talked either Sarah or Colleen into handing them out tonight.

The entrance emerged into view. Jo straightened her back, shoved her elbows into her waist, and took another deep breath. It was now or never.

The doors slid open, and Jo's eyes widened. She wasn't expecting that.

She scanned the almost home-like lobby for signs of the rest of the group. In the corner near the elevators, Lucas and his colleagues from the OCME sat spellbound on the sofa in front of Henry. He gestured toward the sky and pantomimed a boy holding a stack of books in his arms. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but, based on the faraway look in his eyes and the grin on his face, she could tell he was completely lost in a good memory.

Jo's chest warmed, and her lips lifted into a smile. She couldn't believe it. Henry was here, and he was still working with her and the OCME.

Mike stopped and gaped at the immortal. "Doc's in jeans?" He closed his mouth. "I thought I'd never live to see the day he'd dress in something other his fancy suits or that sweat suit he wore last year."

Jo's eyes traveled down to Henry's legs. She noted the wrinkles around his knees, and it suddenly grew too hot for her coat. _Oh, man._

Two fingers wrapped in white tape rose into the air as he mimicked someone scrambling to put his books down. She snapped herself out of her haze and bit back her laugh. Apparently, Henry had underestimated how hard Dr. Washington's jaw was.

She strolled up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He stopped mid-sentence and froze.

After a second tap, he slowly turned around. The moment he locked eyes with Jo, he gave her a lopsided grin.

She grinned back at him. "Care to fill the rest of us in on what you're talking about?"

He bowed his head and looked out from under his eyelashes. "I was telling everyone about the time my brother Edward and I vanquished Jonathan D'Arcy after he taunted us one time too many."

Jo threw her head back and mouthed an "Ah". It was one of the few stories from his youth which he could safely tell without arousing many suspicions.

"You have a brother?" Jo could almost hear Mike's right eyebrow shoot up into the air. "You've never mentioned him before."

_Nuts. Except for that one._

Henry's eyebrows turned up, and his face fell. He shoved his hands into his pocket and averted his gaze for a moment.

He blew out a puff of air. "We're not in touch with each other anymore."

"What happened between you two?"

Before he could respond, Candy's voice echoed through the hallway behind them. His shoulders relaxed as he spun around and attempted to eavesdrop on her conversation.

Jo's heart wrenched in her. She peered over her shoulder and watched the traffic flowing outside. Why wasn't society more accepting of immortality? It would make life so much easier if Henry could talk about his family and his past as freely as he could talk about his work or history.

Candy appeared with Colleen, Sarah, and a tall, gray-haired woman. Jo swallowed. Had Henry run into her at some point in his past?

She peeked at him. The lack of recognition in his expression whispered to her and encouraged her to put the idea aside for the time being.

The older woman stopped in front of them, clasped her hands together, and smiled at each of them. Jo straightened her posture, squared her shoulders, and took a deep breath. _Show time_.

"My name is Peggy Stevenson." The other woman took one step closer to the group. "I am the activities coordinator here at the Harmony Thompson Nursing Center. Everyone is waiting in our first-floor living room. Shall we begin?"

As everyone filed in behind the women and started down the hall, Jo slid up next to Henry. She swallowed back her disappointment at the short distance between them. They were there to sing, not to enjoy another date.

She peeked at Lucas eagerly talking to Travis and Stan. Lucas glanced over his shoulder, nodded toward Henry, and turned back to their conversation.

She leaned over toward Henry. "Does this mean what I think it means?"

Her pulse surged in her body. What if she was wrong? What if this was his last time being with anyone in the OCME?

Henry smiled and bowed his head. "Dr. Lippmann was more concerned about my fingers than Dr. Washington's accusations against me." He turned to her. "He suspended Dr. Washington seconds before he sent me to the urgent care center to be checked out."

He sobered. "How did Abe's lead turn out?"

She found the memory, pulled it out, and smiled. "The couple identified their assailant as Ralph Salter. He used to work for the same company as Marcia, Barbara, and them until a few years ago when he moved to upstate New York. They told Mike and me that he and Marcia had appeared quite cozy together even if they had insisted that they were just friends. And he frequently visited Paul's store next door for supplies."

"Marcia cheated on Paul while she was dating him, and Paul had subconsciously picked up on it. Feeling he had no one to share them with, he recorded his suspicions in his journals. Dr. Norbert encouraged him to discuss the matter with Marcia when he stumbled upon the entry during a session. Paul, hearing his parents' voices and Marcia's displeasure with him in his head, chose to use it as a starting point in discovering what he wanted out of life instead. When Marcia attempted to convince him to move to upstate New York, he refused and used his love of the city as an excuse to stay. Ralph, in the meantime, couldn't bear to be without Marcia, which prompted him to follow his girlfriend to her new job."

"My thoughts exactly." Jo had thought it was odd for Paul to include his concerns about Ralph and the other man's side-eyes and murderous glares in his journals, especially since Ralph had worked with Marcia than with him. Marcia and Ralph starting to fall in love with each other while she had been seeing Paul was the only plausible explanation the detective could think of. "Anyways, our witnesses claimed that they spotted Ralph and Marcia checking out the tree at Rockefeller Center two days ago. I'll check the flight logs, hotels, and surveillance footage tomorrow and see if I can question them before they leave town."

Henry's words hit her. She stared at him. Was he talking about his own thought process, or did he climb into Paul's head and pull that out?

"Would you like for me to accompany you?"

She twisted around and peeked at Mike. He raised an eyebrow.

She glared at him. If he thought eavesdropping would help him glean information about her and Henry's relationship, he was mistaken.

She pivoted back to Henry, stood on her tiptoes, and placed her lips next to his ear. "It might be best if I let Mike go with me. I think he's feeling a little jealous of the time we're spending together lately."

Henry's eyes widened. Her chest swelling in pride, she glanced back at Mike and smirked. Let him think that she had whispered a sweet-nothing in Henry's ear. He'll find out what she had really said tomorrow morning, and he was going to hate that it would involve more paperwork.

They rounded a corner. The hallway opened up into a spacious living room. Several people sat on the blue sofas, recliners, and chairs lining the white walls. Mahogany tables lined the back wall, and a small stack of papers, presumably the programs and packets for the night, sat on top of the center one. In the middle of the room, a small group in wheelchairs gathered around to face the piano.

One couple about Abe's age caught Jo's eye as the group moved to the front of the room. She gulped. What would happen when she would look old enough to be Henry's adoptive mother? He had once told Abigail that he was blind to her aging appearance, but Abigail had grown frustrated and uncomfortable with everyone's refusal to believe that she was Henry's wife. Would the same happen to her when she reached her sixties?

Jo's heart wrenched in her again. And what would happen to him when she died? Sure, one of their kids might step up to help him evade her future colleagues and keep him from burying himself in his grief. But after they reunited with their mother and the rest of their family in the afterlife? Who was going to keep Henry grounded in the present so he wouldn't turn into Adam's protégé or lose his newfound will to live?

The couple looked up at the group. Their eyes lit up the moment they spotted Henry.

Recognition flashed in Henry's eyes as the group removed their coats and laid them on the chair closest to the back of the piano. He turned away and quickly schooled his worried expression.

Jo gulped again. _Oh, no. Please, no. Don__'t…._

Peggy stepped between them. Jo willed herself to calm down. Maybe they had the wrong man. Maybe they wouldn't say anything. Maybe….

"May I have your attention?" Peggy's voice rang through the room.

She clasped her hands in front of her. "We have the pleasure of having Lt. Candace Lior from the 11th Precinct and her group The Twelve Golden Rings joining us here this evening. Would you please welcome them?"

As Candy joined Peggy's side, Jo sneaked another peek at the elderly couple. They kept their eyes on Henry as he swung around to the back of the group. The man squeezed his wife's hand, and they grinned as though they were kids in a toy store.

Jo's questions and thoughts swirled in her mind. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. She had been so sure that she wanted to continue seeing Henry. Now.…

She resisted the urge to huff. Maybe dating an immortal wasn't such a good idea after all.

* * *

As the room emptied of the last of the residents and caregivers, Henry remained rooted to his spot. He stared at the center of the room where Frank Valens and his wife Dottie, née Dorothy Eastman, had sat in their wheelchairs.

He swallowed as memories of the couple and their lives in Lenox Hill mingled with the sight of them watching him from the moment that he had walked into the room. They were likely wondering why he hadn't aged—or died—since he had fled the apartment on 62nd and 2nd with Abigail and Abe. They were likely curious about Abe's and Abigail's well-beings. And, surely, they were risking a mental examination for dementia or memory-related issues by telling others, and especially their children, about how he knew them.

One leg grew numb. He shifted his weight onto his other foot. It would be easy for him to leave with everyone else. He had no reason to have visited them in the past, and he would be overstepping his bounds if he stopped by their room now. He could help them save face if he made an escape now.

Frank's ostomy bag and the trembling in Dorothy's hands nagged at his conscience. He took a deep breath. The amount of urine in the plastic pouch dangling near Frank's feet, suggested that he didn't have long to live, and Dottie, with her Parkinson's disease and her almost lifelong affection for Frank, wouldn't be very far behind him. If it gave them some peace, perhaps it would be acceptable if he would visit them for a little while.

"Doc?"

Henry shook himself out of his thoughts and twisted toward the rest of the group gathered at the chair which held their coats. Hanson slipped his arm through his sleeve, tugged on the fastener, and stepped over to him.

"What?" His pulse raced through his veins while he calculated the distance between himself and the exit. Hanson was an excellent detective in his own right, and Frank and Dottie's scrutiny certainly had not escaped his notice. Hanson would….

"We're headed to McSorley's. Care to join us?"

The tension drained out of Henry's shoulders. He smiled. All day long, he had wanted to celebrate his boss's decision to retain him. Although It was a group outing, he could take a private moment to fete today's outcome.

Henry peered over the other man's shoulder to see if Jo was preparing to join the rest of the group. She met his gaze and offered him a smile. The light in her eyes was almost as dim as it was when Adam had used Abigail's death to persuade the younger immortal to seek the cursed _pugio_.

Henry sobered and swallowed. She needed to talk. Just not here. Nor at McSorley's.

He met Hanson's eyes and offered him a lopsided smile. "I'm afraid not. Perhaps some other time?"

"Yeah, we'll do that." Hanson examined Henry's face. "Are you sure you're okay? It looks like you've seen a ghost."

"I, um…." Henry's mind scrambled for a plausible excuse and found one. "I was thinking what would happen if I were to send Abe to live here one day." He swallowed back rising bile. "I, um, I don't think I could bear it."

His stomach churning even more, he cursed himself. Why did he continue to use his son as a justification for his behavior? One day, Abe would no longer be around, and all he would be left with were only his vices and his morality.

Henry rolled his shoulders, hoping to release the rebuilt tension in them. Never again. From now on, his excuses were his own. If anyone were to find reason to doubt him, they could inquire him about it.

"_You have a brother? You've never mentioned him before. What happened between you two?"_

He bowed his head, and he shoved his sweaty hands into his pockets. His hand brushed against the cold metal back of his watch. He instinctively folded his fingers around the ancient heirloom and ran them along the etched edge.

Henry swallowed back his tears. Starting with Edward's untimely death from flu-related complications in 1802. He might not get through the retelling of that memory without breaking down, but, perhaps Hanson and the rest of the OCME contingent would understand why he didn't discuss his personal life with them as often as they would like.

Hanson regarded him for another moment before joining everyone else. Henry sighed. It was the first time that he had identified with a large group since his involvement with the Diogenes Club. And, suddenly, he was hating not spending time with them.

Jo paced from the doors to the bookcase on the opposite wall and back again. His heart ached for her. Something must have gotten to her after they had entered the waiting room. Whether it was seeing the couples and being reminded of her and Sean or something else, he didn't know.

A sharp jab crossed his taped knuckles. He winced and dropped his watch back into its place. He should've extended his knuckles like he had taught Clarence, their young witness from the Raul Lopez case. Yet, Dr. Washington and his denigration of Jo didn't give him time to properly form his fist. Oh, well. Maybe, next time, he should cool off a tad before taking a swing at someone.

He plucked his coat off the chair's back, slipped it on, and strolled over to her. She stopped her pacing in mid-step and, upon seeing him, pirouetted in his direction.

He stepped as close as he could to her, bent his head next to her ear, and dropped his voice. "Are you okay?"

She offered him a small smile which failed to comfort him. "I'm fine." Her eyes roamed his. "How are you doing?"

Henry narrowed his eyes. "Huh?"

"The couple who recognized you. How do you know them?"

He dipped his head and grinned. "They were my and Abe's neighbors from years ago. I was planning to visit with them for a while."

He rolled his tongue against his cheek. Perhaps….

He met her gaze. "Why don't you come with me?' I'm sure Frank and Dottie would love to meet you."

Jo opened her mouth, but no words came out. She turned away from him. He swallowed. What was bothering her?

She reached up and laid her hand on his chest. "Why don't you go on ahead? I'll meet you in the lobby when you're done."

Henry inhaled. "Okay. I will." He tilted his head. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

They exchanged one more look before he reluctantly left her side. He buried his hands in his pockets. Perhaps he should return to her and suggest that they return home. He could offer his lab as a quiet place to talk, or, if she preferred, he could stay with her as long as she allowed him. Either way, she couldn't suppress her feelings much longer.

He passed one of the few resident's rooms located on the first floor. He stopped and turned his head to see if he recognized the resident or the resident's family member. For a split second, the semi-conscious man and the woman sitting beside him transformed into Abe and Fawn as they took turns occupying each spot.

Henry's heart wrenched within him. He swallowed back his tears and his bile. How he wished that he could wrap his arms around Fawn and comfort her as she anticipated losing another husband to death. Or to hold his son tightly against his chest as Abe mourned his wife's passing. Neither of them should have to face that day and the days, weeks, and years of grief and loneliness afterward alone.

The woman snapped her head up and faced him. He offered her a small smile which he hoped would convince her that he had not intended to pry into their lives and that he wished he could comfort her and their family. Before she could glare at him, he continued down the sterile hallway toward the front desk.

His mind rolled back to the images. His knees buckling from the shock, he grasped the handrail lining the hallway. Was Jo right? Was fate, through his imaginings, giving him glimpses into the future?

He scoffed and shook his head. As far as he knew, that wasn't possible. He would ask Adam about the experience, but he would rather stab himself with Adam's _pugio_ than to consult with the other immortal about this.

Remembering that Jo wasn't far behind him, Henry squared his shoulders and continued toward the lobby. He rolled his tongue along the inside of his mouth. In both instances, a part of him had wished that Jo was beside him to comfort both the remaining spouse and their father….

He huffed. For them to have a life together that far into the future, they must stay in New York. Long before Erica had invited him to join her in her new life, he had hated to leave Jo….

Henry's knees started to give way. Fearing a fall, he snapped out of his thoughts to survey his surroundings. He spied the sofa his colleagues had sat on while he had regaled them with his and Edward's first—and, thanks to Father and Mr. D'Arcy, only—fight with Jonathan D'Arcy and sank down on it.

"_You want to stay here because of Jo?"_

He bowed himself and clasped his hands in front of him. _No. Not now. Not after I had decided to put my relationship with Erica behind me so __that __I can devote my whole heart to Jo._

He attempted to shove his breakup with Erica aside, but her question echoed in his mind as though she was standing in front of him and waiting for his response.

"_And, yes, that life now includes…Jo. I don't want to lose what I had built."_

Henry took in as much air as he could. The two times in which the temptation to start anew elsewhere had reawakened and had gripped him like his life depended on it, a small part of him had warned him that he would eternally regret his decision if he left town. In both instances, he had found himself wishing that things were different, that he could cleanse his conscience by telling Jo everything, that he didn't need to worry about her reaction. That….

He had chosen to remain even then. But why? He had almost always fled when he had felt someone could expose him after discovering his secret. He had always believed that he had stayed because he had subconsciously trusted Jo with his secret long before he could utter the words "I'm immortal". But now….

"_You wouldn't have stayed in New York if, at least on a subconscious level, you didn't feel that there may be more to your and Jo's relationship than just a friendship."_

His unfocused gaze found his folded hands. Perhaps Abe had a point. But how…?

"…_it seems that she has more of an effect on you than almost any other woman outside of Mom.__"_

He took in another deep breath. His mind circled back to his first sight of her standing in his autopsy room. He had felt as though he had taken his first breaths of air after an awakening the moment their eyes had met. The only other woman who had made him feel that way upon meeting was Abigail, and she had brought him back to himself until….

Every moment with Jo passed before him. He gaped. He had been mistaken. He had believed that Erica had made him feel like his old self again when….

His heart raced in his chest. Jo had been the one to awaken his true nature from its grave in his heart. She had challenged him to face the personal demons in which his long life had birthed, and she had given him the courage to conquer them. She had shown him glimpses of what having a relatively normal life filled with love and laughter again could look like. She had started to convince him that fate had more in store for him than world-weariness, loneliness, grief, and despair. She had persuaded him that life was worth living.

And she had convinced him to make his home in New York…with her.

His eyes darted back and forth across the floor. No wonder why Erica had believed that he was in a relationship with Jo. He had given Jo his whole heart when he had offered his advice about Paris. His guilt from not confiding in her earlier and from his role in their quarrel had been so obvious that Erica could see through his attempt to hide behind his immortality, and she had called him out on it when they were breaking up.

He blinked several times and shook his head. _Whoa. That__'s….. I feel like I'm awaking up._

The faint aromas of the rather bland meals he and Lucas had frequently analyzed whenever the deceased came from a nursing home drifted into the lobby. Remembering he still wanted to visit with Frank and Dottie, he pulled out his watch and checked the time.

He pushed himself off the sofa and strolled over to the desk. The woman manning it laid her phone down and looked up at him.

"Yes, may I help you?"

Henry shoved his sweaty hands into his pockets. "When are your visiting hours?"

She smiled at him. "We have no set hours. You can visit whenever you want, as long as you don't interfere with their care or planned activities."

He huffed and stared down the other hallway. Frank and Dottie were likely being rolled into the cafeteria for their evening meals. He shouldn't disturb them.

He turned back to the receptionist. "I'll come back later."

"Do you know any of our residents?"

He offered the woman the biggest smile he could muster. "My father and I—." His heart wrenched at the lie. "—are old friends of a couple here. I can bring him later this week."

He rubbed his watch's side. Perhaps it was for the best. Frank and Dottie would be thrilled to see Abe for the first time in decades. And he would have some moral support when he confessed why he had remained unchanged—and alive—after all these years.

He dipped his head. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

Henry turned around in time to see Jo trudge through the lobby toward him. His stomach sank as she attempted to smile at him. He wished he knew what was on her mind. He had never seen her like this before, and he wished he knew what he could do to help her.

* * *

The silence between Jo and Henry rose over the roaring holiday traffic and the joyful conversations. She pulled her trembling arms against her sides. It wasn't like him to remain silent, but he didn't know how much she appreciated him letting her be alone with her thoughts.

Her building's gate loomed into view. She briefly considered asking him if they could talk in her apartment before quickly dismissing the idea. If their discussion turned into an argument, like it had the last time she had approached him with something like this, she would rather avoid the shop for the rest of her life than to move again.

Within a few minutes, they were across the street, through the shop's darkened retail space, and in the staircase. She squared her shoulders as he guided her down to the basement. She didn't want to break up with him. He had been the best boyfriend she had had outside of Sean, and she could envision them as a couple for as long as she lived. But, if she was going to continue seeing him, she needed to know whether he could guarantee that his condition wouldn't be an issue for them in the future.

He landed at the base of the stairs, moved over to his desk, and spun around. His puppy-dog eyes brought a smile to her mind. She swallowed it back and willed herself to focus on the matter at hand.

"What's wrong?" He slipped his hands into his pockets and paced up to her. "You've been quiet all evening."

"I, um…."

Frank and Dottie's recognition of Henry and overhearing his decision to see them later as she had returned to the lobby came back to her. Tears brimmed Jo's eyes._ Nuts, Henry! Why do you have to make this so hard?_

"What's going to happen when things get serious?" The words started tumbling out faster than she could think. "One day, I'm going to look older than you, and no one will believe that we're husband and wife. What's going to happen if we have to move our family across the country or halfway around the world because someone noticed one of your deaths? It might have been easier to pack up and move in the 1950s and 1960s, but you didn't have everyone running electronic background checks or emailing each other school transcripts back then. And what if both Abe and I die? Who's going to take care of you? You…."

Her words ran dry as her tears spilled over her mascara. Maybe Henry was better off with Erica. At least, with her, he wouldn't worry about any of that. They could enjoy an eternal life exploring the world, indulging in good food, and having fascinating conversations comparing the past with the present. They could have a life where they wouldn't have to worry about losing a spouse or not ever having a family to call their own. And they wouldn't feel forced to keep their immortality a secret because of the other. She couldn't provide him with any of that. Not unless fate made her immortal in the very near future.

Just as Jo opened her mouth to make the suggestion, he locked eyes with her and gave her the tiniest smile she had ever seen. Her heart wrenched in her. How could she do this to him? He didn't deserve to have her take out her frustrations on him.

"I'm tired of running."

Jo stared at him. "Huh?" She didn't hear that right.

He took another step closer. "I'm tired of running. I'm tired of drifting from place to place, never staying anywhere longer than seven years, ten at most. I'm tired of being lonely and always starting over." He huffed. "I just want someplace to call home."

She studied him. He had apparently given this some thought recently.

She took a deep breath. He still hadn't answered her other questions.

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. "I stayed in New York because of you. I cannot guarantee what the future holds, but we have time to plan for it. We can create ways to disguise my age and come up with convincing cover stories to explain my condition if we need them. And we can plan for my care after y-. After you…." He choked on the next words.

His Adam's apple bobbed. Jo wiped away her tears and brushed the caked makeup on her pants leg. She didn't realize how much he hated to think of that day.

His words echoed in her mind. She caught one statement, and her jaw dropped. How—?

"You broke up with Erica?" Jo didn't understand it. They had seemed so happy together.

Henry closed the distance between them, bowed his head for a moment, and smiled at her.

"I hadn't given her my whole heart. We both knew it, but my love for her and my desire for companionship with someone like myself had blinded me to that." He chuckled. "Ironically, she was the one who figured it out, and she had called me out on it before she had left New York."

Jo's eyes roamed his face. She swallowed. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

Her heart raced in her chest like it had when she had come to the shop to tell him she wanted to go to Paris with him. "Who did you give your whole heart to?"

"You." He placed his hands on her waist, and the tingle filled her body. "I gave it to you."

She opened and closed her mouth several times. He was in love with _her_?

"Why?" She was just a mere mortal. She didn't know what _she_ could offer him.

The left side of his lip rose up. "Because you are one of the kindest, strongest, most patient, caring, and honest women I've ever known. Because, everywhere you go, you bring life into the lives of others. Because you see beyond the surface and into others' true natures." He turned his lopsided smile into a full one. "Because you've captured my heart in a way no woman other than Abigail ever had. And I would love to prove it to you for as long as you allow me."

She broke her gaze and studied the floor. It was quite a bit to take in.

But….

But she couldn't imagine her life without him. And, apparently, he couldn't imagine his own without her in it.

She licked her bottom lip. "When are we going to tell everyone we're seeing each other? We can't keep our relationship a secret much longer. Everyone's already assuming we're dating."

His eyes darted from each eye. "Are you…?"

"Yes." She grinned, feeling freer than she had for the past year and a half. "Yes, I want to be with you. I want to see what fate has in store for us. I…."

At that moment, the shop's bell rang, and Abe's and Fawn's voices drifted downstairs. Jo groaned. Why did Abe always choose the worst time to interrupt?

Henry kissed her on the forehead. "I'll tell him about us as soon as I can. Right now…." His voice trailed off as he lost himself in thought.

Jo nodded. Maybe it was for the best. Abe might hate the thought of his father seeing someone else other than Abigail or Erica, and the detective didn't want to disrespect his wishes.

They waited until Abe and Fawn were in the apartment before heading upstairs to the retail area. Henry grasped the clapper and held the door open for her. Jo gave him a short, chaste kiss on the cheek as she crossed the threshold.

She turned around and watched him ease the door shut without making a sound. Their eyes met. She smiled at him and waved. She was in love with him, and it was a matter of time before she could tell him how she felt.

* * *

**Mini-Tag:** While singing the "Twelve Days of Christmas" the night before, Lucas realizes the group doesn't have a name. They sing the line "Five Golden Rings" for the first time, and Lucas blurts out that it sounds like a good name for them. Everyone quickly points out that there are twelve people in the group. Candy mulls it over and agrees that, with a slight modification, it would be perfect for them. After a vote, they settle on the name.

**Author's Note:** The nursing home is modeled on the Pontiac Nursing Home (exterior) and the Mary Manning Walsh Home (lobby and first-floor living room). Visiting hours are based on the Mary Manning Walsh Home's in 2015 (available on the nursing center's pages on the Wayback Machine's site; September 8, 2015, at 14:06:57). Henry and Jo's witness in "The Pugilist Break" doesn't have a name other than "Boy" in the credits or on IMDB, so I went ahead and named him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note**: Sorry this took longer than I had expected. The idea for a one-shot popped in my head, and I had to write it at the same time I was writing this chapter. (To make up for the delay, the one-shot is posted as well.) I hope you'll enjoy the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Two days.

Clenching her jaw, Jo shook the last of the popcorn into the big plastic bowl, tossed the bag into the trash can, and carried the bowl into the living room. She had spent the past two days reviewing surveillance footage from every holiday attraction and calling every hotel that she could think of in hopes of finding Marcia and Ralph. And what did she have to show for it? A headache, a sore neck, eight new earworms courtesy of being on hold for so long, and a sinking suspicion that Marcia and Ralph would already be back Upstate by the time she had finally tracked their every movement through the city.

She popped a piece of popcorn in her mouth and grimaced. "Needs salt."

She lowered the bowl onto the coffee table and returned to the kitchen for the salt shaker. Not having Henry around to bounce ideas off of or to look over the evidence with wasn't helping. In spite of having a broken finger, he had been recruited to handle accident scenes and another round of hospital and nursing home duty. The pair of times in which she had stopped by the shop to talk, her heart had sunk when Abe had informed her that Henry was still at work. Abe had offered to listen to her, but it just wasn't the same.

She headed back into the living room, salted her snack, and tasted it again. "Much better."

She plopped the shaker onto the coffee table, settled onto the sofa, pulled the popcorn and the remote to herself, and started the DVD. Maybe the only good thing to come out of this was that they had another performance tonight. It had felt like an eternity since their last time together, and seeing his face again would be a breath of fresh air.

She watched until Colin Firth's Mr. Darcy stripped down to his undergarments, dove into the pond, and swam while Elizabeth Bennett visited his estate. Behind him, she could imagine Henry "waking up" underwater and his survival instincts prompting him to swim to the surface. Once on land, she could see him charting a course for the closest shelter and planning his excuses to explain his nakedness if someone caught him on his way home.

Jo paused the video a second time after Mr. Darcy, carrying his suit, had crossed his field and encountered Elizabeth. Jo giggled as she once again saw a wet and annoyed Henry sitting in Abe's car and wondering what on Earth she was doing at their shop. She had watched that scene a lot since she had first seen it in reruns the same summer her family had finally started to pay for cable TV. How come she hadn't noticed that she had a real-life version before?

Henry's comment about Erica calling him out on him not giving his whole heart to her rolled in Jo's mind. She popped another piece of popcorn into her mouth and chewed it slowly.

She laid the bowl next to her hip, shook her head, and smiled. Maybe she shouldn't have been so jealous of Erica. She always could talk to the other immortal whenever she had felt that she couldn't talk to Abe or Lucas about her struggles with the idea of immortality and her issues with Henry's lies during their first year of working together. It would have been natural for Erica to pick up on her and Henry's history with each other, and Erica would have deduced the truth about Henry's feelings for Jo long before he had become aware of them again.

Jo shook her head and grinned. How was it possible for them to have fallen in love with each other? The immortal ME who had been searching for a way to become mortal again and the mortal detective who would have given anything to bring her husband back from the dead? It was a ridiculous love story….

But….

But she wouldn't have it any other way.

Her heart ached for him. She restarted the episode only to stop it when Elizabeth mentioned Mr. Darcy's appearance to the Gardiners. When she had run into Fred and Danny in the joint hallway yesterday, they had mentioned that Henry's boss was reassigning today's autopsies to a new ME. Maybe….

Jo turned off the TV, placed the popcorn in the microwave, and headed to her closet. She pulled out the warmest clothes that she could find and changed into them. A blast of cold air had greeted her while she had peeked out the window this morning, and she wasn't taking a chance on getting sick on everyone.

Once she snatched her stuff from the table in the foyer and slipped them into her pockets, she raced out her door, through the hallway, and down the stairs. She hoped that Henry had told Abe about them. If he hadn't, she would have a lot of explaining to do if his son started asking about the past couple of weeks.

She headed out the building, stopping long enough to close the gate. She shoved her hands into her pockets, squared her shoulders, and huffed. "Here goes."

She pointed herself toward the shop. She wrinkled her nose as drops of water fell on it. Was that…?

Before she could answer her question, a howling gust of wind pushed her toward the intersection. She lost her balance, stumbled, and fell face first onto the sidewalk.

She regained her bearings, pushed herself into a kneeling position, and brushed her hair back over her ear. Where did that gust of wind come from?

She shook her head to clear the remaining cobwebs from her head and rose to her feet. She looked around her and narrowed her eyes as snow pelleted her face and her body. How did it turn so dark so fast?

Snow blew onto her face and stuck to her eyelashes and eyebrows. Her heart pounded in her chest at her realization. She's been through snow squalls before, but she had always ridden them out indoors. How…?

Another cold gust of wind cut through her coat. She pulled her arms together. She needed to get inside now.

She looked around at the buildings. Maybe she could make it to the shop….

She used the streetlights and the dim taillights of the cars crawling to a complete stop to determine where she was. Feeling far more oriented than when she was earlier, she set off for Henry and Abe's place.

As Jo toddled toward a grayish-white cloud, she unleashed an expletive. Maybe she should have waited until tonight. They wouldn't have had as much time for themselves, but she wouldn't be risking her life for it.

* * *

"It was great to see Frank and Dottie again."

Henry followed Abe into the kitchen, pulled off his coat, and draped it on the back of his chair. He eyed his son for signs of hypothermia from their walk back to the shop. He had felt that taking Abe's car would have shielded them from the elements today. Abe, however, had insisted that he would be fine taking the subway. One peek at the line of cars crawling along the street had convinced Henry to heed Abe's advice for their trip to the nursing center.

Abe checked the milk in the jug, ambled to the refrigerator, and retrieved the carton. Henry smiled. So far, it appeared that his son's tolerance for the cold remained as excellent as it had been in his youth.

"It was." Henry took the teacup closest to him, poured his tea, and added the freshly poured milk and his lump of sugar. "I'm amazed it went far better than I had expected." Frank and Dottie had been overjoyed to see both him and Abe, and they had believed the men's every word. At the end of the visit, they had promised Henry that they would not reveal what he had told them to anyone, not even their children and grandchildren. Somehow, Henry believed that they would carry their memories of the visit to the grave.

"I'm still surprised that you told them you're immortal." Abe returned to the table, found his cup, and started to pour himself some of the comforting liquid.

Henry settled into his chair, sighed, and sipped his tea. "In a way, I had no choice. It was that, allow them to be evaluated by a psychiatrist should the wrong medical professional overhear their conversation about me, or leave them with questions that would linger well into the afterlife." _If there is one_.

Abe looked around the room and over the older Morgan's shoulder.

Henry narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for the real Henry Morgan. He's got to be here somewhere."

"Abraham." Exasperated, Henry set his cup down on his saucer with a clunk. "You're always encouraging me to evolve, to trust others. Why are you incredulous when I have chosen to disclose my condition to a wedded couple outside of our inner circle?"

"I'm not." Abe seated himself, clasped his cup with both hands, and met his father's eyes. "Given your propensity to avoid conversations about yourself, I think I'm well within my right to question your sudden change of heart."

Henry bowed his head and studied the table's grain. Abe was right. This wasn't like him. Within the past two and a half years, six additional people had learned that he was immortal, and, after rather pleasant afternoons and evenings with them, he had occasionally entertained the notion of Hanson's, Karen's, Marco's, Jerry's, Myron's, and Fawn's knowledge of his condition. He was being careless, and if he didn't watch it, he could be betrayed by the very people closest to him again.

Jo's face appeared before him, and the short time in which they had become acquainted with each other and had fallen in love played before him once again. He chuckled. The first times were always the most difficult. During his first year of working with Jo, he had struggled with keeping Nora's and Adam's voices at bay whenever she had inquired more about his past. Her heartbroken decision to kick him out of her car had awakened him to the price he was paying with his lies, and, during his trudging journey to the basement, he had started to regret not letting her into his life fully to begin with. After he had told her….

He looked back up at Abe and waited until the younger Morgan finished his sip. "I think I'm becoming more comfortable discussing my past and my condition with others. I still struggle with my concerns about others believing me and about being betrayed again, but it's much easier to talk about myself now than it was when I had first begun my consultation work with the NYPD."

"Since you had let Jo watch part of one death and become suspicious about another, you mean."

Henry chuckled and nodded. "In a way, you can say that. I don't know what it was, but there was something about her which had encouraged me to trust her with my true self from the moment we had met."

"_I'm not saying that you have a thing for her, but it seems that she has more of an effect on you than almost any other woman outside of Mom."_

Hoping to resist an urge to sigh, Henry took another sip of his now lukewarm tea. He had promised Jo that he would discuss their transition from friends to lovers with Abe as soon as he could, but, so far, that hadn't happened yet. Between his workload and Abe's dates with Fawn, he had never had the opportunity to bring it up.

He swallowed the last ounce of liquid and slowly set his cup on its saucer. He rolled his tongue along the side of his cheek. Abe had always supported his relationship with Jo, to the point where, over the past two days, the immortal had asked himself whether his son was attempting to play matchmaker for them. Yet, it was too soon in his and Jo's relationship to bring his child into the picture.

The blue numerical tattoo on Abe's forearm caught Henry's eye and called their and Abigail's early days as a family to his mind. He pulled his lips together into a small smile. Abigail had brought Abe into their relationship long before the older Morgan had known either of their names or how long Abe had rested in her arms when he had spotted them. When they had told Abe the real reason they wanted a wedding and a honeymoon, he had astounded them with his knowledge of their unwedded status. This time….

He huffed. This time was different. Then, Abe had enjoyed ten years of seeing his parents live together as husband and wife before they had made their marital status official. Now, both Morgans were creating families on their own without any more hints about the future than what Henry had believed he had seen.

As he nursed his cup, he took another peek at the few droplets at the bottom. Now would be a good time as any to tell Abe about the past two weeks' events. Otherwise, he had no idea when would be the next time he could breach the topic.

He squared his shoulders and steeled himself for Abe's response. His son, however, stared at a spot behind him, almost oblivious to his father's presence.

"Maybe I should hang a few sprigs of mistletoe over the threshold. It would make the apartment feel more festive."

Henry willed himself to reply. "So you and Fawn can make out, as the younger generation might say, when she comes over?" His lips quirked up into a smile.

Abe met his father's eyes again. "So you and Jo can make out again."

Henry's heart pounded in his chest. He was not hearing that correctly.

He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"Come on, Pops. It's obvious." Abe pushed his cup and saucer away from him. "You and Jo had finally admitted your feelings for each other and had started seeing each other within the past two weeks. If I had to take a guess when your confession of love was, I would say it was the same day she had taken you to Midtown."

"Why would you think it had happened then? That is, if your assumption is correct."

"Aside from you turning in early that evening?"

Henry nodded.

"After you had come home from your second practice, you had insisted that you weren't drunk. Ordinarily, I would have been worried about your drinking habits, but, when Jo arrived at the shop, you gained more energy than what my hangover cure could ever give you. The next night, you started to prepare _coq au vin_, a meal which you've told me is meant to invoke romance."

Henry hung his head. He had told his son that when he had first suggested the recipe to Abe years ago.

Henry pointed at Abe. "I let you cook it for me, though. That doesn't count."

"It does to me." Abe stared him down. "The last woman you cooked it for was Mom, and that was like, what? Over thirty years ago?"

Henry opened his mouth. He thought he had made it another time between that night and his and Jo's first dinner as a couple. He hadn't realized he hadn't prepared it since Abigail's disappearance.

"Anyways," Abe continued. "I clearly interrupted something the night Jo stayed over because you two exchanged looks before and after your excuse about her being over because of your case. The next morning, you asked me which scarf went with your intentions toward her, something you rarely do unless you really want to impress a woman who has seen all of your scarves. When she came out of the shower, the look you had on your face was the same one you gave Mom well into her senior years. Not to mention, you've been getting all hot and bothered every time you're around Jo."

Abe took another sip of tea as a smirk crossed his face. "So, it's elementary, my dear Watson. You two finally fell in love with each other recently, and you've become an item."

Henry gaped at his son. Were they that obvious around him?

His fingers ached. He released his grip on his cup and mentally cursed at himself. Thanks to the regular doses of aspirin, the pain was considerably better than it had been three days earlier. Still, he should have remembered to take it easy on the broken digits. After all, his quick healing from an aconite-laced tea would have generated many still somewhat uncomfortable questions, and it would have robbed him of the satisfaction of seeing Dr. Washington's grimace when the two men would encounter each other in the OCME's hallways again.

Abe's mistake registered in Henry's mind. "Sherlock Holmes never said that." He should know. He had read Arthur's stories and novels when they had first come out, and he had never seen the phrase appear on the page.

The rest of the conversation echoed in his thoughts. He tilted his head. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? That you approve of Jo and me seeing each other?"

"Why do you think I criticized Jo's decision to let that billionaire Isaac Monroe decision to court her?"

Henry's eyes widened. "You what?!"

He took a deep breath and regained his composure. "You acted as though you were more concerned about my yearning to be with your mother again than you were about Jo's decision to get back out there."

Abe grew serious. "I was. I thought you were so stuck in your memories of Mom's disappearance that you were going to miss a great thing with Jo."

He took another sip of tea, screwed his face in disgust, and took his cup to the sink. "Besides, if Mom were here, she would have kicked you in your immortal rear end and told you to find yourself another wife."

Henry fingered the rim of his cup as he found the space between him and the saucer. Abe was right again. Abigail had attempted to breach the topic several times before she had left him, but the pain from thinking about that day had prevented him from listening to her. Were he to have reunited with her following his reception of her letter, surely she would have brought it up again before a more natural death, and she would have made him promise to start a new family with someone else.

He scoffed. Honestly, he was glad that Jo had brought the topic up now. Her work had caused him to fear for her life on several occasions, and he had wondered what he would do without her. Although he preferred for the conversation to occur well into the future, at least they could discuss it if she felt unsafe during a case.

Abe came back to the table and poured himself another cup of tea. He gave his father an apologetic look. "I didn't know that Jo had come to the shop to talk to you when I came back with news about Mom. Whatever you were discussing, aside from her and Isaac's breakup, it seemed pretty intense."

Henry chuckled in wonder at his son's observational and deductive skills. "I was the reason she had broken up with Isaac. Or at least that's what I believe she would have said if you hadn't interrupted us."

Abe narrowed his eyes. "Why do you think that?"

His advice to her echoed in his mind. He softly smiled as he started to imagine them getting lost in Paris again. "I had told her that…."

At that moment, the bell over the shop's door jangled, snapping Henry out of both the memories and his daydream. He and Abe exchanged looks. Abe had insisted on keeping the shop closed today in case their visit with Frank and Dottie had taken a turn for the worst. So who…?

Henry shoved himself out of his chair and started for the stairs, stopping long enough to pat Abe on the back. "I'll take care of our visitor. You just sit back and relax."

"Okay, Pops."

Henry peeked out of the window as he passed the kitchen. He swallowed. Somehow, during their conversation, a gray cloud had descended on the city, and snow was pelleting the window with a ferocity he hadn't seen since earlier in the year.

The emergency department physician in him urged him to stop gawking at the snow squall and race downstairs to a potential patient. He sucked in his breath and steeled his nerves as he obeyed the instinct's orders. He hadn't practiced medicine on the living in a long time. He hoped that his skills in treating hypothermia weren't rusty.

He flew into the shop's retail section and unlocked the door. When he opened it, his heart almost stopped at the sight of a snow-covered Jo shivering on their stoop.

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in as quickly as he could. He narrowed his eyes as he regarded the rosy color in her cheeks and the tip of her nose. How long had she been out in the squall? And why did she risk her life to come here?

He ushered her into the shop, closed and locked the door, wrapped an arm around her, and held her as tightly against his body as he could. As he gingerly guided her to the living space, he quietly breathed a silent prayer that she would be okay.

* * *

"How are you feeling?"

Jo stirred in Henry's arms and willed herself to look up at him. Two cups of tea, a mug of hot chocolate with marshmallows, and the warm blanket over her had made her so comfortable that she didn't want to move.

She smiled as she gazed into his brown eyes. "Still cold." Almost as if it was on cue, her body quivered for a second. "But I'm warmer now than I was earlier."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Tears rimmed his eyelids. She pulled her lips tautly together. Had he been worried about her since she had showed up at his door? She didn't notice she was _that_ cold.

She turned from him and stared at a spot on the brick wall on the other side of the living room. She definitely should have waited until this evening to see him again. She had almost always listened to his concerns about her well-being, and he would have advised her to not take an unnecessary risk. Today should have been no different.

"Maybe I've made a mistake in coming here." She swallowed and dared herself to look at him. "I, um, I…." She sorted out her thoughts. "I couldn't wait to see you again, and I…. I…."

Tears began to coat her own eyes. She wiped them with the hand on his chest. He had been through too much in his long life. He didn't need to come close to losing her this soon.

"I know." His dulcet voice and small smile whispered his forgiveness.

Jo snuggled against Henry and laid her head back on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. He responded by holding her tighter and resting his hand on the small of her back.

A strand of hair fell across her cheek. Before she could react, he released her waist and brushed it back with his other hand.

He stroked her cheek again. She closed her eyes, and she could feel herself getting lost in his touch.

The moment his hand returned to her waist, she moaned. Why did he have to do that? They could have spent the rest of the day like that.

The tinkling of dishes in the sink filled the air. She opened her eyes. A quick peek into the kitchen revealed Abe dunking her cocoa mug into the other sink for a rinse. If she didn't know any better, she would have sworn that he wanted to be alone with his feelings.

She fingered Henry's scar. "Looks like I scared Abe as well."

Henry sighed. "You had. He wasn't ready to think about me losing my girlfriend so soon."

She could almost hear him smile. "He might not act like it, but he's glad you're okay now."

"_He wasn't ready to think about me losing my girlfriend so soon."_

Jo gaped and pushed herself up on the sofa. "When did you tell him about us?"

Henry chuckled. "I didn't." He shook his head almost as if he was in disbelief. "He had figured it out a week ago. We were discussing it before you had arrived at our door."

She blinked, shook her head, and widened her eyes. "We were that obvious around him?"

"Any more obvious, and I would have told you two to get a room." The younger Morgan turned around, migrated to the living room, and leaned against the threshold. "Honestly, it's about time for you to admit your feelings for each other. You've been dancing around the topic for the past two years. Might as well do it before anything else happens down the road."

Jo studied Abe. They had been that obvious since Henry had dated Molly and she had dated Isaac?

Abe pushed himself away from the threshold and took a step inside. "Do you need anything else?"

Jo examined the huge blanket draped over them and checked how thirsty and hungry she was. She shook her head. "Not that I know of." She glanced over at Henry. "Henry?"

"Not really."

Abe looked at his father, then at her, and took them both in. "I'll be in my room. Call me if you need anything."

As Abe slipped back out into the kitchen and started for the hallway leading to the bedrooms, Jo shook her head in amazement. How was it possible for her to find enough love for both Henry and his son?

The idea suddenly hit her. She widened her eyes. If she and Henry were lucky enough to get married, she would be the stepmom to a 72-year-old man and an adoptive step-great-grandmother long before she would have her first child with Henry.

She settled back onto the sofa and smiled. Then again, nothing about Henry was normal. And that was the way she liked it.

She wiggled as close to Henry as she could. Her smile turned into a grin as he pulled her close to him.

She took in as much of him as she could. His arms were strong enough to pull patients to safety and gentle enough to cradle a baby. His hands had done everything from tying kids' shoelaces to playing pianos to weighing brains. His eyes had taken in everything from London during Jane Austen's time to the dawn of the modern era. And, even with the threat of a psychopathic immortal on the loose, Henry's soul had somehow managed to maintain its integrity.

Jo's fingers glided along his scar, almost as though they didn't feel the dress shirt separating her from it. It was a miracle that he was here with her two hundred years after his first death. It was a miracle that she had been assigned to the train crash which had killed him, and it was a miracle that CSU hadn't bagged his watch before she had found it. It was a miracle that he had been assigned to investigate his own death. And it was a miracle that she had recognized there was something different about him and that she had listened to her gut urging her to get to know him better.

His heart marked the seconds following his transformation into an immortal. She smiled. What she wouldn't give for her to wake up to it every morning and to let it lull her to sleep at night for as long as she lived.

She pushed the thought aside for the time being. If fate allowed them, they would get married soon enough. For now, though, she should just enjoy being his girlfriend.

The blanket weighed down on her. She wiggled herself into a better position. She could just….

"Do you mind if I closed my eyes for a while? This blanket is putting me to sleep."

Henry kissed her on the forehead. "Take as much time as you need."

As her eyes slid shut, Jo smiled once more. She had to be the luckiest woman in the world right now. She was with Henry, and, for the moment, that was all that mattered.

* * *

**Author's Note:** You can watch the wet-shirted Colin Firth scene for yourself at "The Lake Scene (Colin Firth Strips Off) – Pride and Prejudice - BBC on BBC Studio's YouTube page. To see where it occurs within the miniseries, check out For Pride and Prejudice's transcript of "Pride and Prejudice 1995 BBC Miniseries Script – Episode 4".

The snow squall that Jo inadvertently walks into really happened on the morning of December 15, 2016. (Sophia Rosenbaum's "Polar Vortex brings a little snow to NYC", December 15, 2016, New York Post, Glenn Coin's "Dangerous snow squall headed for Central NY; warning issued" on 's website, and The Digital Snow Museum's December 15, 2016, page). Information about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's famous non-quote is from Wikipedia. Part of the conversations in the chapter were inspired during a recent rewatch of "Punk Is Dead" and "Best Foot Forward".


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note**: Sorry this chapter is a bit late (again). I had finished it the day after Halloween, but FF had experienced a hiccup which prevented most people from seeing new chapters and stories. I decided to wait until after the bug was resolved so everyone could enjoy it. I hope that you will.

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Henry wiggled into an upright position as the bare trees lining Catherine Slip Street transformed into a lush green field dotted with clumps of gorse bushes, elms, and poplars lining the two main roads on either side of the common. His heart sank when the stone church's steeple and green roof emerged from a strand of elms and broom trees that were almost as old as he was. Edward should be springing up from behind Mother and Father, excited to share the latest gossip about the neighbors or his and his friends' plans for the next few evenings. He should be trading barbs with Jonathan D'Arcy, dreaming of his own Grand Tour, or discussing his intentions to follow his older brother's footsteps into a life away from the shipping trade upon his return. He should be eyeing their new female—and unwedded—neighbor and pestering Grace and Mother for an introduction to her. Anything but lying in the ground next to Grandfather and Grandmother on the family estate.

Henry's black cravat and the matching crepe armband tightened their grip around his neck and arm. He spied an opening and stepped into it. If only he could tear down the field and hide in the grove near the street from Tooting, perhaps he could cry in peace.

"Henry."

Father's stern voice chilled him to the bone. He swallowed and cast his gaze to the ground while he rejoined his parents and sister.

"Yes, Father."

Falling behind the older Morgan, Henry brushed away the tears from his eyes. Perhaps he should have discouraged Edward from his plans to leave Father without an heir to the family company. Perhaps he should have left for Oxford to begin his medical education two years earlier than he had. Perhaps he should have abandoned his desire to go on the Grand Tour and opened a surgical practice instead. Perhaps….

Grace caught his eye and offered him a small smile. He bowed his head quickly, and his lips began to lift….

A car horn blared behind him. He blinked several times and waited until the remnants of his memory faded into the present before he dared to address anyone.

"Henry." Fawn's voice cut through the last of the fog. "Are you okay?"

He traded looks with Abe in the rearview mirror and then gave Fawn a small smile. "It's the first time I've stepped foot in a church in a long while." _More like __over 200__ years_.

"Bad experience?"

"You could say that." The long line of comforters had forgotten about him while consoling his parents and his sister, and the one friend whom he had there was at home suffering from a severe bout of—what he now knew was—ulcerative colitis. In addition, Reverend Venn's sermon on joy had failed to assuage his grief or address his desire to know whether he would ever see his brother again in the afterlife. Fortunately, the following Sunday, the surgeon-apothecary whom he had started working under had called him away to a medical emergency at St. Bart's, and, when it had come to his religious beliefs, Henry had never looked back.

He could feel Jo's eyes boring through him. He turned to her and gave her a look which he hoped would convey a desire to talk about it later. She responded by squeezing his hand and easing her other hand up his back until it settled on his nape. As she stroked it, every ounce of tension drained from him and into her fingers.

He swallowed back his hum and his pleasure to prevent a rather awkward situation. _Keep going, Jo. That feels good_.

Jo's fingers landed on the same spot that Abigail had stroked whenever she had been interested in more than a night out on the town. He leaned back against the seat and clutched the door handle in an attempt to not give into his passions. Man, this was going to be harder than he thought.

"This time will be different." Absolutely oblivious to what was really happening, Fawn locked eyes with him. "You'll be staying long enough to sing for everyone." She smiled at him. "And you have your friends, Abe, and me to support you. Just relax, and enjoy yourself tonight."

Jo slid her fingers down his neck and repositioned them on his back, breaking the spell over him. He smiled back at Fawn. "Thanks for the reminder."

He slightly shook his head. If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn Fawn had sounded like his mother.

Abe pulled up to the Georgian-style, red brick church and parked between the two white columns supporting the porch. Henry climbed out and left his door long enough to help Fawn out.

As Henry went back and took Jo's hand, Abe twisted around, leaned over the seat, and gave him a paternal look. "If you and Jo make other plans for the night, I won't wait up for you. Go ahead and enjoy yourselves. And don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Henry narrowed his eyes. What hadn't Abe done while courting a woman before Fawn had made an honest man out of him? At times, he could have sworn that his son could have given Uncle Dennis a run for his money.

Sensing Abe wouldn't let up on him, Henry mustered as defiant of an expression as he could. "Yes, Dad."

Abe's eyebrows shot up. Before his son could say anything, Henry burst into a grin, closed the door, and wave the younger Morgan off to his parking spot. He turned to the two women, who were attempting to hide their laughter from him.

"Shall we?" Ignoring their reactions for the moment, he gestured to the door.

A brisk, cool wind brushed against his cheek. Reminded of the day's ordeal, he wrapped his arm around Jo, tucked her under his shoulder, and kissed her on the top of her head. She snuggled deeper against his side as they mounted the stairs, almost as if she sensed he didn't want to let her go.

They passed a pair of parishioners entering the building. The door swung toward the threshold, and he caught it for Fawn with his free hand. Fawn nodded her thanks while she brushed by him.

A grin cracked his face. Perhaps, one day, he would tell her the real reason why the exchange was amusing. He still needed to know what she believed about death, the afterlife, and immortality, but, until then, he would let her dictate how much she wanted to know about his life.

"Hey!" Hanson's stern voice rose above the rest of the ones echoing in the foyer. He emerged from the group of their fellow carolers and their families, pursuing his sons as though they were suspects in a case. "Come back here. You're not supposed to be running in a church. It's unholy."

Henry gulped. Right after he told Hanson. Unlike Jo, Lucas, and Lt. Reece, Hanson didn't believe in immortality. One word about it from the immortal's lips, and the skeptical detective would place him in a white-padded room in Bellevue in a heartbeat.

Jo untangled herself from him, caught his eyes, smiled, and tugged at his hand. Whatever his next thoughts were, they had faded before it could enter his mind.

"Come on. Let's join everyone."

He gaped at her and shook his head as she led him into the building. How was it possible for her to have this effect on him? For her to steal his worries and hide them somewhere where he couldn't find them with merely one touch and a look? For her knowledge of his innermost secrets to take his breath away? For her desires to override his and encourage him to try something he hadn't done in ages?

He pulled his lips into an open-mouthed smile. What he wouldn't give for her to bring him under her influence anytime she pleased for the remainder of her life.

Jo nudged him deeper into the nave. His eyes widened as he took in the garlands of fake hollies and ivies lining the pews and the lighted ones lining the balcony's walls, the Christmas trees flanking the main aisle, and the poinsettias sitting below the altarpiece. Holy Trinity was always somber, even during the holidays. This, well, this was almost a festive wonderland.

Jo slipped away from him, presumably to greet Karen. Henry's heart lurched in his chest. He wished that she would have remained by his side. There weren't enough hours in this day for them to be together.

He checked out the group. Everyone was preoccupied with their families, and he hated to disturb them.

To distract himself from his loneliness, he found Fawn claiming a seat in the pews for herself and Abe. A young couple eased into the pew behind her. The woman struck up a conversation with Fawn. Henry tried to hone on them, but the surrounding voices drowned out the women's words.

The man looked back at Henry. He locked eyes with the immortal, and the color drained from his face.

Henry struggled to keep his features schooled. How did the man know him?

The man then peered over Henry's shoulder. Henry twisted around to see where the man was looking. Henry's heart slammed against his scar the second he recognized the man was watching the group.

Henry swallowed as soon as the man turned his back to them. With his unpredictable schedule and his days off for practice, he hadn't had the pleasure of examining Jo's files on their suspects yet. But he could swear that the couple were Marcia and Ralph.

He pivoted toward the group and spotted Jo and Karen talking animatedly. Jo glanced at him, a smile gracing her face, before turning her focus back on Karen.

He swallowed again. He hated to interrupt their conversation. Jo and Karen had been apart for a long time, and it was only recently that they had rekindled their friendship. She shouldn't be forced to miss another minute of it.

Paul's and Barbara's gray, blank faces and naked bodies flashed before him. He squared his shoulders and started toward the women. Regardless, Jo needed to know so that they could move in on Ralph and arrest him.

Footsteps tapped toward him. The next thing Henry knew, Donnie screeched to a halt. "Uncle Henry!"

The lad threw his arms around the old man's waist. His chest warming, Henry reached down and patted Donnie's shoulders. "It's good to see you too."

He squatted down until he was at eye level with Donnie. "What's this that I hear? Why were you running in the sanctuary?"

"Matt took the candy cane they gave me when we came in. I wanted it back."

Henry bowed his head and smiled. How many times had Edward pestered him in that manner when they were Donnie's and Matt's ages?

Donnie scrutinized the older man. "Are you wearing jeans?"

Henry scoffed, careful to not insult the lad. "I am."

"Did Aunt Jo talk you into it?"

Henry scrambled for his words. Had he and Jo been so obvious that a _child_ could discern what was going on between them?

Before Henry could answer, Lucas appeared in his field of vision. He stepped in front of a guilty-looking Matt, who proceeded to lunge around his legs.

"Whoa, there, Little Guy." He swooped Matt into his arms and carried him back to his older brother. "Not so fast. Hasn't anyone told you you're not supposed to be running in a church?"

"Nun-uh." He shook his head as Lucas lowered him to the ground.

Donnie glared at his brother. "Someone did too."

"Who?"

"Daddy."

As if on cue, Hanson raced up to his sons and leveled a stern look at them. "How many times have I told you two not to run away from your mom and me?"

"Matt took my candy cane and won't give it back," Donnie pleaded.

"I did not." Matt shot a look at his brother. "It was mine."

"We'll talk about this later." Hanson took both boys by the arm and pointed them toward Karen. "Right now, we need to get you back to your mom so you can take your seats."

He finally noticed his colleagues and gave them a grateful look. "Thanks, guys. I owe you one."

As they moved toward the ladies, Henry felt a smile playing on his lips. He turned back to Lucas. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Lucas puffed out his chest. "My cousins. They're always running from their parents whenever we have a family reunion. Catching them is much easier than chasing them."

Henry threw his head back. With Lucas' lanky frame, he could see that.

The young man studied Henry. "Say, aren't you and Jo…?"

"Everybody." Candy's voice interrupted them. Henry inwardly blew out a sigh of relief. He wanted to tell Lucas about his and Jo's relationship, but not like that.

Candy studied them and waited for the rest of the group to join them. A tall, older-looking man joined them. She gestured toward him. "This is Reverend MacNeilly."

"It's good to meet you all. Sgt. Lior has told me so much about you." Reverend MacNeilly nodded a greeting to them and checked his watch. "Why don't I lead you to the choir area so you can get ready?"

As the group fell in line behind the pastor and migrated to the side aisle, Henry stole another peek at their possible suspects. The young man stared at them, almost as if he was attempting to discern their identities.

Abe pivoted around and caught Henry's eyes. Henry gave his son a small smile which failed to fill him with peace. Somehow, he had the feeling that he and Jo wouldn't be enjoying themselves later tonight.

* * *

"_Glo-o-o-o o-o-o-o_-…"

Jo sucked in a breath and hoped that she held her note. How much longer was this going to last?

"…_-ri-a.__"_

_Whew!_

"_In ex-cel-sis De-e-o_."

As the last note from Candy's piano faded and applause took its place, Jo dared to look out over the crowd. Her eyes widened as the audience rose to their feet and gave them a standing ovation.

Her chest warmed as she spotted Karen and the boys, Abe and Fawn, and everyone else's immediate families. She glanced back at Henry, and they exchanged smiles. This was possibly her best singing yet. She had been so distracted by her walk to the shop and picking Fawn up from her Union Square apartment that the detective didn't have time to be nervous about the performance.

When she turned back to everyone, her eyes landed on Lieu and what looked like her husband, a daughter, her nephew, and his family. She swallowed. She didn't even see Lieu. Had she or her nephew noticed where she had screwed up?

She squared her shoulders as the audience took their seats again. She would find out soon enough. Knowing Lieu, she wouldn't let them leave without telling them what she thought about their performance.

Reverend MacNeilly sauntered up to the pulpit, laid his hands on it, and cleared his throat. "This concludes tonight's cantata. Let's give Sgt. Lior and The Twelve Golden Rings another round of applause and thank them for filling in for our choir this week."

As the audience clapped, Jo finally took the deep breath that she had felt she had needed all evening long. At the same time, she was relieved that no one outside of their group had recognized Henry. Frank and Dottie had given her a scare, and, when Henry had told her that he had mentioned his condition to them before they went to their death beds, she had assumed the worst. Fortunately, his and Abe's visit had gone the same way that Henry's final visit with James Carter had gone over a century ago, and, so far, it appeared that Henry could stay in New York without worrying about his secret getting out any time soon.

She caught Fawn's eye before the older woman bent down to pick up her purse. Jo smiled. It would be nice if Henry were to tell her the truth about himself. But, when he had regaled her with the tale of his visit with his former neighbors, the seasoned detective could tell from the look on his face that he wasn't ready for that just yet. Apparently, six reveals over the course of two and a half years—seven, if she counted Adam receiving visual confirmation of Henry's immortality when the psychopath had stumbled upon the crash which had thrown Henry into her life—was a bit much for him.

Jo's eyes traveled to a couple sitting directly behind Abe and Fawn. Her heart jumped into her throat the moment she recognized Marcia and Ralph from her case files.

She mentally slapped her head. Of course, there was a chance that they would show up here. According to Candy, the King of Hope Church's yearly cantatas usually drew visitors who had walked in off the streets as well as the church's regular parishioners. Maybe Marcia had heard about the change in plans, and she had asked Ralph if they could go before they returned Upstate.

She inwardly cursed herself for not noticing them sooner. The moment that the curse word had finished crossing her thoughts, she cringed. It didn't matter if she was mad at herself for looking at different parts of the audience like her grade school teacher had instructed her to before her performance in _My Fair Lady_. She shouldn't be using that language in church.

Ralph locked eyes with her and leveled a threatening glare. She leaned into her police training to resist the urge to react. If Ralph thought he would scare her easily, he had another think coming.

The congregation rose and began to gather their belongings. The group stepped out of their spots and clustered around each other. She nervously gazed out into the audience. She hoped that everyone else would slow Marcia and Ralph's exit from the building. It would give her time to round up Mike, Nadia, and Rachel—and maybe Colleen and Sarah, if Candy didn't mind—and move toward her suspects without arousing suspicions.

Several scenarios ran through her head. Her heartbeat picked up its pace. At the same time, she didn't want to think about Ralph taking a hostage or threatening to shoot a random bystander in the building. Even Henry deciding to take a risk and step between the suspect and everyone else would….

"Jo?"

Nadia's voice brought Jo's thoughts to a stop. "What?"

"Do you have any plans for the night?"

Jo bit her lower lip. Abe and Fawn had plans for later, and, knowing them, the couple wouldn't be finished with them until morning. Maybe she should invite Henry over to her apartment, and, if they talked way past their bedtimes, maybe she could return the favor by letting him crash on her sofa for the night.

Fawn's and her attempts to comfort Henry while on the way here came back to her. She bit back her laugh. Did she manage to turn Henry on while she was stroking his neck? She didn't know she had it in her.

The room suddenly grew hot. She…

_Focus, Martinez. __Y__ou__'re in a church, and you shouldn't be thinking that way. Mark the spot and save your memory of his reaction for the honeymoon. And don't forget that Nadia is waiting for you to answer her._

Jo found Henry to suggest the idea to him. He, however, was deep in conversation with Mike. She strained to hear what they were talking about, but she couldn't make it out.

She shrugged. Maybe it was a father-to-father talk about Donnie and Matt's behavior earlier in the evening. Mike hadn't quite simmered down when he had joined the men in the choir area, and both Jo and Karen were worried he might not focus on his singing. Maybe Henry was giving him some advice without revealing precisely how he knew what to do.

Ralph caught Jo's eyes. Fortunately, he and Marcia hadn't left yet. Unfortunately, he alternated between eying the group with suspicion and charting a course for the exit.

She motioned for Nadia and the other law enforcement officers to come closer. They huddled around her. She glanced around them and shot Lucas a murderous look which she hoped would discourage him from joining them. To her relief, he slowly backed away from her, eased around the group, and headed toward the audience.

Jo steeled herself for the officers' reactions. "Look, I hate to break the news to you, but whatever you have planned for the night, we're going to miss it."

Everyone groaned and started complaining. She sneaked another peek at Marcia and Ralph. Her heart pounded harder as she watched Abe and Fawn engage them in conversation.

She pleaded to whomever was listening for them to keep Abe and Fawn safe. Abe loved helping his father out in any way he could, and he wouldn't hesitate to confront a potentially armed suspect if he felt it could help Henry bring them to justice. Henry certainly didn't need the loss of a child—or that child's girlfriend—to a criminal on his conscience.

Jo looked up to catch Henry's eye and warn him about Abe's possible intentions. To her surprise, neither he nor Mike were anywhere in sight.

_Oh, great. Just what I needed._

Feeling the urgency of the situation, she took a quick stock of their strengths. "Nadia, call for backup and secure the sanctuary. Sarah, take the back of the church. Colleen, take Marcia Doyle into custody." She discreetly pointed at the woman. "And, Rachel, take the intersection."

"Where are you going?" Colleen raised her eyebrows.

At that moment, Ralph took another look at the group, vaulted over his pew, landed beside the empty one behind him, and sidestepped his way to the aisle. Once he found a clearing, he bolted toward the main exit. Several parishioners yipped and screamed as they jumped out of Ralph's way.

Jo raced down the stairs and through the half-empty side aisle, hoping to cut him off before he left the sanctuary. As her feet hit the tile floor, she unleashed another expletive. Had she known that she was doing this tonight, she would have borrowed a pair of Henry's sneakers. They might be slightly larger on her feet, but she wouldn't be worried about losing her shoes or injuring her foot.

Speaking of which, where was Henry? She hoped that he wasn't planning to take on Ralph himself. She was grateful for his lack of self-preservation, but she didn't need him to become a hostage—or a victim—tonight.

Out of the corner of her eye, a dark shadow moved toward her. A second later, Lieu joined her side and matched her step for step.

"What's going on?"

"Ralph and Marcia are here tonight. Or I should say that Ralph was here. He's making a break for it."

Jo took another look at the crowd. The doors leading outside swung close, but not before the amber streetlights shined into the building and illuminated Ralph's general direction.

_Oh, great. Ralph__'s escaped._

In case she was wrong, Jo led Lieu toward the doors, bounded down the steps, and looked both ways down the street. The heavy traffic obscured her view of the other side of both streets.

Just as she had begun to think that she had lost him, a car's screech filled the air as it came to a stop. Jo followed it down the street. Behind her, she could hear Lieu racing with her.

The back of Ralph's head appeared on the other side of the intersection. Jo's heart leaped into her stomach. Ralph was heading for the Chambers Street station, and she would lose him again for sure if he boarded a train before she could reach him.

Ignoring the traffic, she followed him across the street and past the nearby high school. Lieu quickened her pace until she was at Jo's side again.

"How are you planning to catch him?" Lieu's question rose above the car engines and horns passing by them as the vehicles prepared to cross the Brooklyn Bridge.

"The only way I can think of." Jo filled her lungs with a cold, deep breath. "Follow him until he gives out."

The cold air brushed against Jo's cheeks as she sprinted across the parking lot near the NYPD's headquarters. Remembering what had happened earlier in the day, she swallowed. Maybe she should summon backup herself and let the unis arrest him. She had already endangered her life once today. She didn't need to do it again.

Henry's absence flashed in front of her. Then again, she couldn't give up now. Trouble always found him when he least expected it. Maybe she could keep it from finding him today.

Ralph bolted through the brick-covered courtyard and under the arch. Jo bit back her laugh. She doubted that he even knew where he was.

Lieu leaned over until her chin touched Jo's shoulder. "I'll get backup."

Not wanting to expend her breath, Jo nodded. As Lieu veered off toward their superiors' offices, Jo's arms quivered. Her pulse quickened. She didn't know how much longer she could hold out. If Ralph didn't stop soon, she could be in trouble.

Ralph dashed across Park Row. He slowed to a stop and then disappeared into the Manhattan Municipal Building's courtyard. She jogged to the spot where he had stood and tried to see which direction he had taken.

She huffed. She couldn't see him anywhere.

She took a deep breath and picked a direction. She passed the red sculpture and under another covered walkway. To her relief, the arch sheltered her from the wind.

She slowed her steps, found a well-lit column, and took a moment to catch her breath. She gazed up at the passage's curved ceiling. She could imagine Henry trudging under this same arch on his way back home from an unexpected swim in the East River. Or gazing at something similar for the first time when he had arrived in Italy for that leg of the Grand Tour. Or….

A scuffle followed by a man's shout bounced on the arch's walls. Jo blinked herself out of her daydream.

"You can't do this to me! I'll sue you for assault and battery!"

Jo ran toward the front of the building and searched for the voice. To her left, a pair of men held a third man against the wall between the arches marking the subway station's entrance.

She jogged up the steps. If she didn't know any better, she would swear that the two men were holding Ralph hostage.

She reached for her badge, but her hand found air instead. She cursed herself. She had left it at home.

She squared her shoulders and hoped that the other men would believe her when she said she was a cop. If they didn't, maybe she could hold all three of them until Lieu arrived with backup.

She started to open her mouth to identify herself when the men turned to face her. As Henry held Ralph's wrist against the wall, his eyes shined under the dim overhead lights. A huge grin crossed his face as he panted for air. Mike tightened his grip on Ralph's shirt, raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head toward Henry as though her official partner was telling her that he was innocent.

Jo puffed her cheeks out and pulled her lips together as tightly as possible. She leveled her gaze at her ecstatic boyfriend. If Henry didn't watch it, he would be spending the night in jail as well.

* * *

**Author's ****Note**: How Henry and Mike beat Jo to the arrest will be addressed in the next chapter. And the chapter after that will be the last one.

In the flashback, Henry is 23, and he had returned from his Grand Tour a couple of months earlier. For story purposes, Edward had just turned 21 when he died. Grace is 19 and, thanks to her independent streak hinted at in Chapter 11, still single at the time.

In my stories, I usually set Henry's childhood home and the Morgan family estate in the London neighborhood of Lambeth/Clapham, partly because of the family's wealth and their involvement in the abolitionist movement and partly because it's about halfway between the Charing Cross Asylum (mentioned in the year and place stamp in Skinny Dipper's first flashback) and Southwark Prison. The description of Holy Trinity Church is from "Church of Holy Trinity—Lambeth - 1080491" on Historic England's website and "A Building and Its People" on Holy Trinity—Clapham's website. The common's description comes from Friends of Clapham Common's "History of Clapham Common" and "Perambulation of Clapham Common, Clapham, 1800" on Ideal Homes: A History of South-East London Suburbs's website. Information about Regency-era mourning rituals is from Jane Austen Online's "Regency Mourning: An In-Depth Look" and "Dressing for Mourning in the Regency", Donna Hatch's "Mourning Customs in Regency England" on her blog, and Sharon Lathan's "Mourning and Burial Practices during the Regency" on her blog. Henry's medical training is from "Doctors: Physicians, Surgeons, Dentists and Apothecaries in England" on FamilySearch's website's wiki page, Alicia Rasley's "Doctors in the Regency" in the Regency Fiction Writers' blog "The Beau Monde", and Regina Jeffers' "A Regency Era Teaching Hospital" on her blog "Every Woman Dreams...".

The King of Hope Church is based on the Brick Presbyterian Church (exterior, interior, and Christmas decorations) and St. Paul's Chapel of Trinity Church (balcony and Christmas decorations only). Pictures for the decorations are on Brick Presbyterian's website under "December 24, 2019, "God in the Manger, Glory in the Skies- Christmas Eve Candlelight Service"" and ABC7's video of St. Paul's Christmas décor in their December 24, 2018, article "Christmas Eve children's service held at St. Paul's Chapel".

The building where Jo, Henry, and Mike arrest Ralph is the David N. Dinkins Manhattan Municipal Building. Information about it is from the New York City's government website, listed under "DCAS Managed Public Buildings". In case you're wondering it's a third of a mile (552.33 meters) from where the church is set to the building.


End file.
